THE   DEMOCRACY   OF   THE 
CONSTITUTION 

AND  OTHER  ADDRESSES  AND  ESSAYS 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  THE 
CONSTITUTION 

AND  OTHER  ADDRESSES  AND  ESSAYS 


BY 

HENRY  CABOT  LODGE 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1915 


Copyright,  1915,  by 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 


Published  February,  1915 


ACS 


TO 

THE  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ASSOCIATION 
OF  NORTH  CAROLINA 

IN  MEMORY   OF 

THE    OPPORTUNITY    GIVEN    TO    ME    TO    SPEAK    TO    THEM    OF    THE 
CONSTITUTION  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES 

AND   OF 

THE   KINDNESS  AND   HOSPITALITY  SHOWN 
TO  ME   AT  RALEIGH 


345278 


PREFACE 

The  first  five  papers  in  this  volume  deal  with  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  with  the  "democ- 
racy" which  it  created  and  limited,  and  with  the 
changes  in  it  which  are  now  proposed,  affecting  the 
courts  and  the  principles  of  representative  govern- 
ment. I  have  endeavored  to  omit,  so  far  as  possible, 
any  repetitions,  but  as  all  the  addresses  are  concerned 
with  different  phases  of  the  same  subject  there  are 
certain  points  where  the  same  argument  must  recur 
in  order  to  make  clear  the  particular  aspect  of  the 
question  to  which  the  main  discussion  is  devoted. 

I  desire  to  express  to  Messrs.  Fimk  &  Wagnalls,  to 
the  publishers  of  the  Century,  and  to  the  publishers  of 
the  Outlook  my  thanks  for  their  kind  permission  to 
reprint  three  of  the  essays  here  republished. 

Henry  Cabot  Lodge. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

Pagb 

I.    The  Public  Opinion  Bill 1 

II.    The  Constitution  and  Its  Makers 32 

III.  The  Compulsory  Initiative  and  Referendum,  and 

THE  Recall  of  Judges 88 

IV.  The  Constitution  and  the  Bill  of  Rights    .     .     .  106 
V.    The  Democracy  of  Abraham  Lincoln 122 

VI.    John  C.  Calhoun 160 

VII.    Thomas  Brackett  Reed 186 

VIII.    An  American  Myth 208 

IX.    As  TO  Anthologies 226 

X.    The  Origin  of  Certain  Americanisms 246 

XI.    Diversions  of  a  Convalescent 274 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION   BILL^ 

Mr.  President  and  Gentlemen: 

I  am  much  indebted  to  you  for  your  kindness  in 
asking  me  to  address  you  upon  a  public  question  which 
seems  to  me  to  be  of  the  gravest  importance.  You 
are  the  representatives  of  the  great  labor  organizations 
of  Boston,  but  let  me  say  at  the  outset  that  the  meas- 
ure which  I  am  about  to  discuss  is  in  no  sense  what  is 
usually  called  a  labor  measure  any  more  than  it  is  a 
party  measure.  It  is  one  which  affects  the  entire  com- 
munity, every  man  and  woman  alike,  without  regard 
to  their  occupation  or  position,  for  it  involves  a  change 

I  Address  before  the  Central  Labor  Union  of  Boston,  September  15, 
1907.  The  Public  Opinion  Bill  which  had  been  proposed  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

Public  Opinion  Bill  as  Reported  to  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives OF  Massachusetts  at  the  Last  Session  of  the  Legislature  . 

AN   act  to  authorize  THE   SUBMISSION  TO   VOTERS,   ON   OFFICIAL  BAL- 
LOTS AT  STATE  ELECTIONS,  OF  QUESTIONS  OF  PUBLIC  POLICY. 

Be  it  enacted  by  the  senate  and  house  of  representatives  in  general  court 
assemhUd,  and  by  the  authority  of  the  same,  as  follows: 

Section  1.  On  a  request  signed  by  one  thousand  voters,  asking  for 
the  submission  of  any  question  for  an  expression  of  opinion  and  stat- 
ing the  substance  thereof,  the  secretary  o    the  Commonwealth  sha 
t?Lsmit  such  request  to  the  State  ballot  law  ^^^^^^^f  J>,^'/^^^7^^^^^^ 
determine  if  such  question  is  one  of  pubhc  pohcy,  and  if  they  so  deter- 
mine  shall  draft  it  in  such  simple,  unequivocal,  and  adequate  form  as 
they  may  deem  best  suited  to  secure  a  f^ir  expression  of  opinion 
Thereupon  the  secretary  shaU  prepare  and  furmsh  suitable  forms, 
each  to  contain  spaces  for  not  more  than  one  hundred  signatures,  and 
Tsuch  forms  shall  be  signed  by  five  thousand  voters,  he  sha  1  upon 
the  fulfilhnent  of  the  requirements  of  this  act  place  such  question  on 

1 


2  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

hot  in  our  laws  but  in  the  fundamental  principles  of 
our  government.  What  I  am  about  to  say  to  you 
was  prepared  some  months  ago,  before  I  left  Washing- 
ton, because  I  thought  that  I  might  desire  to  discuss 
this  question  after  I  had  come  home,  and  I  wished  to 
speak,  whenever  the  opportunity  occurred,  with  care 
and  deliberation.  This  argument  was  not  designed 
for  a  special  audience,  but  for  any  audience  of  any 
kind  that  might  care  to  listen  to  it,  because  it  concerns 
equally  all  citizens  of  Massachusetts.  I  therefore  do 
not  address  you  merely  in  your  capacity  as  representa- 
tives of  our  great  labor  organizations,  but  in  your  larger 
capacity  as  American  citizens,  interested  above  all  in 
the  welfare  of  the  community  and  in  the  safety  and 
permanence  of  the  republic. 


the  official  ballot  to  be  used  at  the  next  State  election.  Forms  shall 
bear  the  date  on  which  they  are  issued,  and  no  applications  made  on 
forms  issued  more  than  twelve  months  before  the  election  concerned 
shall  be  received. 

Sec.  2.  Signers  of  requests  for  the  issuance  of  forms  and  signers 
of  applications  shall  append  to  their  signatures  their  residence,  with 
street  and  number,  if  any,  and  shall  be  certified  as  registered  voters  by 
the  proper  registrars  of  voters.  One  of  the  signers  to  each  paper  shall 
make  oath  of  the  genuineness  of  the  signatures  thereto,  and  a  notary 
public,  justice  of  the  peace,  or  other  magistrate,  when  taking  such 
oath,  shall  satisfy  himself  that  the  person  to  whom  the  oath  is  admin- 
istered is  the  person  signing  such  paper,  and  shall  so  state  in  his  at- 
testation of  such  oath.  All  provisions  of  law  relating  to  nomination 
papers  shall  apply  to  such  requests  and  applications  as  far  as  may  be 
consistent. 

Sec.  3.  Applications  shall  be  filed  with  the  secretary  sixty  days 
before  the  election  at  which  the  questions  are  to  be  submitted.  Not 
more  than  four  questions  under  this  act  shall  be  placed  upon  the  bal- 
lot at  one  election,  and  they  shall  be  submitted  in  the  order  in  which 
the  applications  are  filed.  No  question  negatived,  and  no  question 
substantially  the  same,  shall  be  submitted  again  in  less  than  three 
years. 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  3 

There  was  reported  to  the  legislature  during  its  last 
session  an  act  known  as  the  '^  Public  Opinion  Bill." 
It  was  brought  up  in  the  house,  and  after  a  full  and 
very  able  debate  was  defeated  by  a  decisive  majority. 
But  although  this  bill  and  its  purposes  were  well  un- 
derstood in  the  legislature,  I  do  not  think  that  the 
gravity  of  the  measure  and  its  far-reaching  effect  were 
fully  appreciated  by  the  people  generally.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  no  more  fundamental  and  far-reaching 
measure  has  been  presented  to  the  legislature  of  Mas- 
sachusetts within  my  recollection.  It  was  not  a  mere 
change  in  legal  practice,  nor  an  alteration  of  long- 
established  laws,  nor  even  a  constitutional  change, 
which  was  proposed.  The  bill  involved  all  these  and 
much  more,  for  if  carried  out  logically  to  its  full  ex- 
tent, it  would  mean  nothing  less  than  a  complete 
revolution  in  the  fabric  of  our  government  and  in  the 
fundamental  principles  upon  which  that  government 
rests.  This  may  seem  an  extreme  statement,  but  I 
think  it  is  susceptible  of  absolute  demonstration,  be- 
cause this  bill,  if  it  should  become  law,  would  under- 
mine and  ultimately  break  down  the  representative 
principle  in  our  political  and  governmental  system. 

To  make  my  meaning  perfectly  clear  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  consider  briefly  and  historically  the  principles 
upon  which  all  government  rests  and  the  instruments 
by  which  it  is  carried  on.  Our  division  of  the  depart- 
ments of  government  into  executive,  legislative,  and 


4  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

judicial,  with  which  we  are  entirely  familiar,  and  which 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  made  co-ordinate 
and  independent,  is  not  a  new  classification,  but  repre- 
sents in  whole  or  in  part  the  recognized  and  essential 
foundations  of  all  modern  governments.     The  first 
method  of  government  devised  by  man  took  the  very 
natural  form  of  a  leader  or  chief.    The  recognition  of 
a  leader,  indeed,  may  almost  be  described  as  a  natural 
instinct,  for  leaders  are  common  among  herds  of  wild 
animals.    The  organization  of  government,  therefore, 
by  the  recognition  of  a  chief  whose  direction  and  com- 
mand have  greater  or  less  authority  is  found  even 
among  the  most  primitive  races  of  men,  except  per- 
haps among  a  very  few  tribes  in  the  lowest  stages  of 
development   who   live   in   a   condition   of   practical 
anarchy.    The  leader  or  chief  of  the  savage  tribe  is 
the  executive.    He  often,  in  the  earliest  times,  com- 
bined with  the  executive  power  the  religious  fimction 
of  high  priest  and  the  judicial  function  of  deciding 
disputes  among  his  followers.    When  we  come  to  the 
great  empires  of  which  we  have  the  earliest  records,  we 
find  the  executive  fully  developed,  sacred  in  his  person, 
and  vested  with  authority  which  in  effect  made  the 
government  a  despotism.    All  despotisms  consist  in 
the  absorption  of  power  by  the  executive,  whether  that 
executive  is  a  single  autocrat,  as  is  usual,  or  a  narrow 
oligarchy  like  the  Council  of  Ten  at  Venice.    The  despot 
may  or  may  not  have  ceased  to  exercise  the  judicial 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  5 

function  personally,  but  if  he  has  created  judges  they 
exercise  their  powers  only  in  his  name.  As  for  laws, 
he  makes  them  all  himself,  and  you  can  read  to-day 
the  laws  of  Babylon  promulgated  six  thousand  years 
ago  and  bearing  the  name  of  the  king  who  made  the 
code.  In  the  supposed  power  of  the  king  to  cure 
disease  by  his  touch,  which  was  exercised  in  England 
by  Queen  Anne  only  two  hundred  years  ago,  as  well 
as  in  the  theory  of  the  divine  right  of  kings  and  in 
the  right  of  the  subject  to  appeal  to  the  king  for  re- 
dress, which  have  endured  to  our  own  times,  you  may 
witness  the  survival  of  the  doctrines  of  the  most  an- 
cient governments  known,  when  all  functions,  religious, 
judicial,  and  legislative,  were  represented  by  the 
executive.  Coming  down  from  the  most  ancient  times 
we  find  in  Greece  and  Rome  a  theory  of  government 
not  known,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  to  the  more  ancient 
Eastern  monarchies.  The  governments  of  Greece,  as  a 
rule,  and  the  government  of  Rome  were  foimded  on  the 
principle  that  the  f  reeborn  people  of  the  city  should  gov- 
ern themselves  and  choose  their  executive  officers;  in 
other  words,  we  have  there  the  idea  of  the  New  England 
town  meeting.  It  would  consume  too  much  time  for 
me  to  trace  in  detail  the  story  of  Greek  and  Roman 
government.  The  Greek  cities  were  torn  with  factions, 
which  led  to  the  banishment  of  one  party  when  the 
other  was  in  power,  to  constant  lapses  into  tyranny, 
and  to  complete  inability  to  build  up  a  strong,  exten- 


6  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

sive,  well-organized  state.  Even  the  genius  of  Alex- 
ander failed  to  create  a  Greek  empire,  and  when  he 
died  all  that  he  had  brought  together  under  a  single 
head  fell  to  pieces.  Rome  started  and  went  on 
for  many  centuries  with  the  government  of  a  city 
democracy  torn  by  the  bloody  strife  of  classes  and 
varied  by  relapses  into  oligarchies  and  dictatorships. 
The  Romans  had  in  the  highest  degree  the  genius  of 
government  as  well  as  the  genius  for  war,  but  never- 
theless when  their  dominions  had  become  almost 
coextensive  with  the  civilized  world,  government  by 
the  great  senatorial  families,  tempered  by  the  mob  of 
the  Roman  Forum,  went  to  pieces  in  corruption  and 
disorder  and  the  earlier  and  simpler  form  of  an  all- 
powerful  executive  supervened. 
-  From  the  break-up  of  the  Middle  Ages,  which  suc- 
ceeded the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  gradually 
emerged  the  kingdoms  of  modern  Europe.  In  every 
case  but  one  those  kingdoms  developed  into  autoc- 
racies, great  or  small.  That  single  exception  was 
England,  and  it  is  merely  reiterating  a  truism  to  say 
that  what  saved  England  from  becoming  one  of  the 
despotisms  which  arose  and  flourished  in  Europe  after 
the  breakdown  of  the  feudal  system  was  her  Parlia- 
ment. In  that  Parliament  we  find  for  the  first  time, 
on  a  large  scale,  the  representative  principle.  England 
did  not  have  as  pure  a  democracy,  in  theory  or  prac- 
tice, as  Greece  or  Rome,  but  both  Greece  and  Rome 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  7 

lost  their  liberties  and  England  saved  and  extended 
hers.  The  rise  of  the  modern  despotisms  of  Europe, 
after  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  was 
marked  by  the  gradual  disappearance  of  those  local 
representative  bodies  which  had  existed  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  The  city  republics  of  Italy,  based  on  the  theory 
of  Rome  and  Athens,  fluctuated  between  anarchy  and 
tyranny  until  they  all  fell  into  the  hands  of  domestic 
or  foreign  despots.  Holland  alone,  of  all  the  countries 
of  Europe,  preserved  the  freedom  of  her  cities  and  her 
representative  system,  and  it  was  Holland,  a  part  of 
the  empire  of  Charles  V,  which  broke  the  power  of 
Spain,  and  retaining  the  principle  of  representation, 
became  under  republican  forms  a  free  and  powerful 
state. 

Wherever  you  look  into  the  histoiy  of  the  last  four 
hundred  years  you  will  find  that  the  rise  and  the  power 
of  the  representative  body  are  coincident  with  liberty, 
and  that  the  rise  of  despotism  is  coincident  with  the 
breakdown  of  whatever  representative  bodies  there 
may  have  been.  The  histoiy  of  the  representative 
principle  in  modern  times  is  the  histoiy  of  political 
freedom,  and  this  representative  principle  is  the  great 
contribution  of  the  English-speaking  people  and  of 
the  period  since  the  Renaissance  to  the  science  of  gov- 
ernment. Without  that  principle  the  democracy  of 
Greece  failed  to  build  up  a  nation  coextensive  with 
the  spread  of  the  Greek  settlements  and  conquests, 


8  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

while  that  of  Rome  sank  under  a  complete  despotism. 
The  empire  of  the  first  Napoleon  and  of  the  third 
Napoleon  as  well  were  both  reared  on  the  ruins  of  the 
legislative  bodies  of  France.  Examples  might  be  mul- 
tiplied, but  nothing  is  clearer  than  that  every  lasting 
advance  which  has  been  made  toward  political  freedom 
has  been  made  by  and  through  the  representative  prin- 
ciple. Even  to-day  the  struggle  in  Russia  seeks,  as 
its  only  assurance,  the  establishment  of  a  representa- 
tive body.  Indeed,  the  movement  for  a  larger  political 
freedom  and  for  the  right  of  the  people  to  take  part 
in  their  own  government,  which  has  filled  Europe  for 
the  last  century,  is  penetrating  now  to  countries  out- 
side the  pale  of  Western  civilization,  and  the  existence 
of  this  movement  in  Persia,  in  Turkey,  and  in  China 
is  inanifested  by  the  efforts  in  all  these  countries  to- 
ward securing  representative  institutions. 

In  a  word,  it  may  be  said  that  the  advance  toward 
political  liberty  and  the  establishment  of  the  rights  of 
the  people  to  govern  have  been  coincident  and  gone 
hand  in  hand  with  the  progress  of  the  representative 
principle.  It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  independence 
of  the  judiciary,  the  other  great  bulwark  of  liberty 
and  of  the  rights  of  the  individual,  has  followed  every- 
where upon  the  growth  and  success  of  the  representa- 
tive principle  in  government.  The  destruction  of  this 
principle,  therefore,  would  mean  reaction  and  the  re- 
turn to  the  system  of  an  all-powerful  executive.    There 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  9 

could  be  no  greater  misfortune  to  free  popular  gov- 
ernment than  to  weaken  or  impair  the  principle  of 
representation,  and  the  quickest  way  to  break  that 
principle  down  is  to  deprive  the  representative  bodies 
of  all  responsibility  and  turn  them  into  mere  machines 
of  record.  You  cannot  take  from  your  representative 
bodies  all  power  of  action  and  all  responsilDility  and 
expect  them  to  survive.  If  you  bind  a  man's  arm  to 
his  side  and  prevent  its  use  and  motion  the  muscles 
weaken,  the  arm  withers,  and  in  time  becomes  atrophied 
and  useless.  If  you  force  the  legislature  to  deal  with 
certain  measures  under  a  mandate  which  practically 
compels  them  to  vote  upon  these  measures  in  only  one 
way,  you  take  from  your  representatives  all  responsibil- 
ity and  all  power  of  action,  and  the  representative  prin- 
ciple in  your  government  will  atrophy  and  wither 
away  until  it  becomes  in  the  body  politic,  like  some  of 
those  rudimentary  organs  in  the  natural  body,  quite 
useless  and  often  a  mere  source  of  dangerous  disease. 
This  Public  Opinion  Bill  does  this  very  thing,  for  it 
aims  directly  at  the  destruction  of  representative  re- 
sponsibility, and  I  think,  although  it  received  the 
support  of  many  excellent  people  who  did  not  pause  to 
consider  it  carefully,  that  it  found  its  origin  among 
those  small  groups  whose  avowed  purpose  is  to  destroy 
our  present  institutions  and  forms  of  government  and 
replace  them  with  socialism  or  anarchy. 

The  advocates  of  the  bill  continually  raised  the 


10  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

parrot  cry  that  those  who  opposed  it  did  not  trust  the 
people,  and  some  persons  were  found  who  actually 
seemed  to  think  that  instructions  from  a  town  or  other 
constituency,  which  were  more  common  a  century  ago 
than  they  are  to-day,  were  equivalent  to  a  Public  Opin- 
ion Bill  and  that  there  was  some  legal  obstacle  at  the 
present  time  to  such  instructions.  There  is  no  re- 
lation or  parallel  whatever  between  instructions  of  this 
kind  and  the  scheme  proposed  by  this  bill,  nor  is  there 
anything  to  prevent  instructions  by  a  constituency  ex- 
cept the  practical  one  caused  by  the  increase  in  numbers 
of  the  electorate.  The  use  of  instructions  has  died 
out,  although  they  are  still  employed  occasionally, 
simply  because  improved  means  of  communication 
and  the  growth  of  commercial,  labor,  and  trade  or- 
ganizations have  made  other  methods  of  reaching  the 
same  result  quicker,  easier,  and  more  practicable.  But 
this  fact  does  not  impair  the  rights  of  a  constituency 
in  the  least,  and  any  constituency  can  avail  itself  of 
this  right  if  it  so  desires,  for  it  is  one  of  which  no  con- 
stituency could  be  deprived  except  by  constitutional 
amendment. 

Every  constituency,  I  repeat,  has  the  right  now,  as 
always,  to  issue  instmctions  to  its  representative  if  it 
can  agree  upon  them,  just  as  it  has  the  right  of  petition; 
but  that  is  a  very  different  thing  from  the  final  deter- 
mination by  ballot  of  every  possible  abstract  question 
by  a  popular  vote.     It  is  worth  while  to  emphasize 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  H 

this  difference,  for  it  throws  Hght  upon  the  whole  ques- 
tion.   The  constituency,  in  the  first  place,  instructs 
only  its  own  representatives.    It  does  not  undertake 
to  instruct  the  representatives  of  other  constituencies, 
but  only  its  own,  thereby  recognizing  the  representa- 
tive character  of  the  member  or  senator  or  congress- 
man whom  it  has  chosen.    The  instructions,  moreover, 
are  passed  by  a  meeting  where  they  can  be  discussed, 
amended,  and  modified,  and  where  the  arguments  of 
both  majority  and  minority  can  be  heard.    The  con- 
stituency in  passing  instructions  is  not  confined  to  a 
blind,  categorical  "yes'^   or  '^no''   upon  a  question 
where  neither  amendment,  discussion,  nor  modifica- 
tion is  possible.    They  act  themselves  only  with  the 
same  safeguards  which  have  been  thrown  about  the 
passage  of  laws  in  the  legislature.    They  are  not  the 
helpless  mstrument  of  a  plebiscite,  but  freemen  setting 
forth  their  opinions  in  the  manner  which  the  history 
of    free    government    has    consecrated.    Instructions 
from  a  constituency  are  the  very  antithesis  of  the 
"  mandate '^  which  it  is  proposed  to  extort  or  cajole 
from  the  people  by  such  a  scheme  as  this  Public  Opin- 
ion Bill. 

As  to  the  cry  that  those  who  opposed  this  bill  showed 
by  so  doing  that  they  did  not  tmst  the  people,  no  more 
unfounded  and  misleading  argument  was  ever  uttered. 
Suppose  I  say  to  you  that  I  do  not  think  that  you  can 
read  in  the  dark.    Do  I  thereby  imply  that  your  eyes 


12  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

are  bad  or  that  I  think  that  you  are  ignorant  and 
ilHterate  ?  Because  I  say  that  you  cannot  read  in  the 
dark  am  I  therefore  to  be  accused  of  exhibiting  dis- 
trust in  your  inteUigence  or  your  education?  ^Vhat 
I  distrust  and  assail  as  a  barrier  to  reading  is  the  dark- 
ness. In  order  to  read  you  must  have  hght.  In  order 
to  make  wise  laws  you  must  have  light  to  see  whither 
you  go  and  not  make  wild  plunges  in  the  dark.  For 
good  laws  you  must  have  good  methods  of  lawmaldng. 
I  do  not  distrust  the  people  who  make  the  laws  but  I 
distrust  methods  of  lawmaking  which  would  force  good 
people  to  make  bad  laws. 

More  than  three  hundred  of  our  Massachusetts 
communities  govern  themselves  in  town  meeting. 
They  are  the  purest  democracies  the  world  can  show. 
They  elect  their  executive  officers  by  ballot.  But  all 
questions  as  to  the  policies  and  government  of  the 
town  are  submitted  to  the  meeting  on  the  warrant 
and  are  open  to  debate,  to  amendment,  to  reference 
to  a  committee  and  to  postponement.  Do  I  distrust 
the  people  because  I  say  that  these  questions  ought  to 
be  submitted  in  precisely  this  way  and  that  this  op- 
portunity for  debate,  amendment,  and  postponement 
should  be  given  and  that  the  voter  should  not  be  com- 
pelled to  vote  ^'yes"  or  "no"  upon  every  question 
in  the  warrant  without  debate  or  delay  ?  The  people 
of  our  towns  would  never  assent  to  such  a  change  or 
allow  themselves  to  be  deprived  of  full  opportunity 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  13 

for  debate,  amendment,  and  postponement,  and  yet 
that  is  just  what  the  PubHc  Opinion  Bill  proposes  to 
inflict  upon  the  people  of  the  State  at  large. 

Here  is  another  illustration  of  my  meaning  drawn 
from  the  very  principle  which  I  seek  to  defend  and  pre- 
serve. I  believe  profoundly  in  representative  govern- 
ment, but  when  I  say  that  I  am  opposed  to  a  single 
representative  chamber,  I  am  not  showing  distrust  in 
representative  government,  but  in  a  form  of  representa- 
tive government  which  history  and  experience  have 
proved  to  be  fertile  in  evils. 

Let  me,  however,  take  an  example,  which  exhibits 
my  meaning  and  demonstrates  my  proposition  better 
than  anything  else,  from  our  administration  of  justice, 
at  once  the  corner-stone  and  the  bulwark  of  a  free  and 
well-ordered  state.  We  determine  differences  between 
individuals  and  we  try  men  and  women  for  crime  by 
judges  and  juries.  Is  it  to  be  argued  that  because  we 
say  that  a  man  shall  not  be  tried  for  his  life  by  a  mass 
meeting  or  a  popular  vote,  but  by  a  judge  and  twelve 
jurymen  under  the  forms  and  regulations  of  law,  we  do 
not  trust  the  people  ?  Has  not  experience  shown  that 
no  man's  rights  or  life  would  be  safe  unless  there  was 
secured  to  him  under  the  strongest  guaranties  the  right 
of  trial  by  jury?  The  Ijnich  law,  against  which  all 
decent  men  protest,  is  often  carried  out  by  mass  meet- 
ings frequently  representing  the  passions  and  beliefs 
of  an  entire  community.    Is  it  a  failure  to  tmst  the 


14  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

people  because  we  insist  that  the  legal  rights  of  the 
people  themselves  cannot  be  preserved  unless  they  are 
determined  by  a  judge  and  jury?  It  is  exactly  the 
same  in  regard  to  legislation.  Intelligent  laws  cannot 
be  passed  without  consideration,  debate,  deliberation, 
and  the  opportunity  for  amendment.  To  answer 
"yes"  or  "no"  on  an  abstract  question  is  to  legislate 
by  ballot  without  any  of  the  safeguards  which  represent- 
ative government  throws  around  the  making  of  laws. 
Plebiscites  of  this  sort  have  determined  and  fixed  the 
power  of  autocratic  emperors,  but  they  have  never 
made  the  laws  of  a  free  people.  This  Public  Opinion 
Bill  is  not  even  a  referendum,  for  the  referendum  sub- 
mits to  popular  approval  a  perfected  measure,  and  in 
the  case  of  purely  local  questions  it  is  often  used  by 
our  legislature.  What  is  called  the  initiative  is  now 
covered,  for  all  reasonable  purposes,  by  the  right  of 
petition,  but  this  Public  Opinion  Bill  puts  both  initia- 
tive and  referendum  into  one  act  and  provides  for  the 
submission  to  the  people  not  of  perfected  law  but  of 
any  abstract  question  which  any  thousand  people 
choose  to  suggest  and  which  any  five  thousand  voters 
can  be  found  to  sign,  and  upon  which  the  people  have 
no  opportunity  to  do  more  than  vote  categorically 
"yes"  or  "no."  You  cannot  hesitate,  you  cannot 
modify,  you  cannot  amend,  you  cannot  postpone.  The 
pistol  is  at  your  head;  throw  up  your  hands  and  answer 
" yes  "  or  "  no  "  at  your  peril.    There  are  four  questions 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  15 

on  the  ballot.  Only  one  probably  has  been  discussed, 
and  that  insufficiently,  for  perhaps  thirty  days.  No 
matter;  you  must  answer  ''yes"  or  "no"  on  all  four, 
and  the  legislature  must  in  reality,  whatever  theoret- 
ical liberty  it  is  supposed  to  retain,  obey  the  mandate. 
There  is  to  be  no  chance  for  reconsideration,  no  time 
for  reflection  or  for  second  thought. 

Those  who  supported  this  bill  appeared  to  be  under 
the  pleasing  delusion  that  no  questions  would  find 
their  way  onto  the  ballot  except  those  which  made  for 
the  obvious  improvement  of  society  or  those  which 
advanced  their  own  particular  interests.    There  could 
be  no  more  mistaken  belief.    Under  this  bill  every 
sort  of  question  would  make  its  way  onto  the  ballot. 
The  only  real  condition  is  the  five  thousand  signatures, 
for  one  thousand  voters  can  suggest,  and  the  duty  of 
the  officer  who  puts  the  question  upon  the  ballot  is 
purely  ministerial,  so  that  to  obtain  these  five  thousand 
signatures  would  only  mean  the  expenditure  of  a  little 
time  and  a  little  money.    The  adroit  and  unscrupu- 
lous, with  schemes  for  their  own  profit  or  with  devices 
to  injure  their  opponents,  would  be  much  more  likely 
to  get  questions  placed  upon  the  ballot  than  any  one 
else.    Propositions  which  if  adopted  might  do  infinite 
injustice  to  the  great  body  of  our  working  people,  could 
easily  be  framed  so  as  to  appear  quite  harmless  and 
catch  the  popular  vote.    Then,  if  adopted,  the  legisla- 
ture would  be  bound  under  the  mandate  by  the  power- 


16  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

ful  instinct  of  self-preseiTation  and  the  innate  desire 
of  shifting  responsibihty,  if  not  by  the  terms  of  the 
statute  itself,  to  embody  them  in  the  law.  I  have 
seen  it  asserted  that  this  system  would  break  the  power 
of  the  "boss"  and  the  lobbyist.  On  the  contrary,  it 
would  give  to  those  who  make  a  business  of  politics 
and  who  seek  legislation  for  their  own  profit  an  un- 
rivalled opportunity,  for  they  would  be  always  pre- 
pared; they  would  have  their  five  thousand  signatures 
always  ready;  they  would  shut  out  by  dummy  ques- 
tions all  others  which  they  did  not  like  and  place  upon 
the  ballot  questions  artfully  drawn  to  serve  their  own 
purposes.  Where  organization,  money,  and  perfect  read- 
iness are  all  that  are  required,  the  professional  politician 
with  a  personal  or  pecuniary  interest  at  stake  and  un- 
troubled by  scruples  will  defeat  and  outwit  the  ama- 
teur and  outsider  nine  times  in  ten.  It  is  exactly 
because  I  trust  the  people  and  desire  that  they  should 
have  every  advantage  that  I  oppose  such  revolutionary 
legislation  as  this.  To  compel  the  people  to  legislate 
in  a  manner  practically  impossible  for  any  very  large 
body  of  voters  is  to  do  an  injustice  to  the  people  them- 
selves. It  would  be  like  compelling  the  people  to 
decide  by  ballot  upon  the  authority  of  what  they 
happened  to  have  read  in  the  newspapers  or  to  have 
heard  from  their  neighbors  whether  a  man  was 
guilty  of  murder  or  not,  and  then  find  fault  with 
them  because   they  reached  an  erroneous  decision. 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  17 

The  people  would  not  be  to  blame  for  the  wrong  de- 
cision, but  those  who  forced  upon  them  a  method  of 
trying  a  criminal  case  which  in  its  very  nature  was 
utterly  impossible  in  practice.  Under  this  bill  the 
people  are  to  be  asked  to  legislate  by  saying  ''yes''  or 
"no''  to  any  question,  no  matter  how  abstract  or  how 
complicated,  which  any  one  can  manage  to  have  placed 
on  the  ballot.  To  deal  with  such  questions  by  a 
categorical  answer  is  absurd.  It  is  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  to  frame  a  question  to  which  a  categorical 
"yes"  or  "no"  is  impossible.  Take  the  familiar  one. 
"Have  you  stopped  beating  your  wife?"  Answer  it 
"yes"  or  "no"  and  see  where  it  leaves  you.  Abstract 
questions  can  just  as  easily  be  framed  to  which  a  cate- 
gorical "yes"  or  "no"  would  be  utterly  misleading, 
perilous,  and  unrepresentative.  No  people,  no  matter 
how  inteUigent,  could  legislate  in  such  a  way  as  this 
otherwise  than  disastrously.  There  would  be  no  op- 
portunity for  modification  or  amendment,  for  repeated 
votes  on  different  stages,  or  for  debate.  There  would 
be  but  little  chance  for  discussion,  and  good  legislation 
without  the  opportunity  for  debate,  amendment,  and 
deliberate  consideration  is  an  impossibility.  Less  than 
one  per  cent  of  the  voters  of  the  commonwealth  would 
have  imder  this  bill  the  power  to  force  upon  ninety- 
nine  per  cent  of  the  voters  any  kind  of  question  they 
chose  to  devise  and  compel  them  to  say  "yes"  or  "no" 
to  it.    Thousands  of  voters  either  through  indifference 


18  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

or  still  more  through  lack  of  opportunity  to  under- 
stand the  question  would  refrain  from  voting,  and  an 
imperative  mandate  to  the  legislature  might  be  carried 
by  a  small  minority  of  the  voters. 

Let  me  ask  your  attention  to  some  figures  in  order 
to  give  you  a  vivid  idea  of  what  I  mean  and  to  show 
how  imperfectly  "yes"  and  "no"  votes,  taken  in  this 
way,  can  be  relied  upon  as  reflections  of  the  real  will 
and  true  opinion  of  the  people.  These  votes  which 
follow  were  given  upon  constitutional  amendments, 
the  most  serious  questions  which  can  be  submitted, 
because  they  involve  changes  in  our  organic  law  and 
were  submitted  with  all  the  care  and  deliberation 
which  the  framers  of  our  Constitution  could  provide. 

I  ask  you  to  consider  those  figures,  for  they  demon- 
strate the  utter  falsity  of  the  proposition  that  you  can 
reach  a  true  expression  of  the  opinion  of  the  people  of 
Massachusetts  by  the  methods  proposed  in  this  bill. 
In  no  one  of  these  ten  instances  did  one  half,  in  most  of 
them  nothing  like  a  half,  of  the  actual  registered  voters 
of  the  State  cast  their  votes  on  the  amendments  thus 
submitted.  Of  those  who  went  to  the  polls,  in  three 
cases  less  than  one  half  voted  either  way  on  the  amend- 
ments. In  one  case  barely  more  than  half  voted,  and 
in  the  remaining  six  more  than  a  third  to  more  than  a 
quarter  failed  to  vote  either  way.  In  no  case  was  the 
amendment  either  carried  or  defeated  even  by  a  ma- 
jority of  those  who  went  to  the  polls,  far  less  by  a 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 


19 


POPULAR    VOTES   UPON    ARTICLES    OP    AMENDMENT   TO    THE 
CONSTITUTION  OF  MASSACHUSETTS 


Date 

Vote  on  amendment 

V^ote  for 
governor 

Not 
voting 

Amendment 

Yes 

No 

Total     ^ 

Nov.  4,  Change  of  residence 

1S90 

in  the  State  not  to 
disqualify  a  voter 

for  certain  oflQces 
for  six  months.... 

97.177 

44,686  141,863| 

r  143,603 

Certain       soldiers, 

etc.,  not  disfran- 
chised who  have 

285,526  ^ 

received  aid  from 

town  or  not  paid 
a  poll  tax 

100.109 

27,021 

127.130 

158,396 

Nov.  3, 

Abolishing         tax 

1891 

qualification     for 

voters  for  govern- 

1 

or,  lieutenant-gov- 

1                   1 

ernor,  and  mem- 

1 

bers  of  the  general 
court 

144,931 

53,554 

198,485 

123,165 

A  majority  of  each 

branch  of  the  gen- 

I 321,650 

eral    court    shall 

constitute  a  quo- 

]»y^j]2 

152,688 

29,590 

182,278 

[  139,372 

Nov.  8, 

AboUshing  property 

1892 

qualification     for 
office  of  governor.. 

141,321 

68,045 

209,366 

399,698 

190,332 

Nov.  7 

AboUshing  mileage 

1893 

to  members  of  the 
general  court 

125,375 

80,855 

206,23C 

365,012 

158,782 

Nov.  6 

Election  of  commis- 

1894 

sioners  of  insolv- 
ency aboUshed . . 

114.499 

34,741 

149,24( 

)       335,354 

186.114 

Nov.  3 

,  Biennial  elections- 

1896 

Treasurer's    term 

of  office  limited  to 
three  years 

.    115,50. 

J  161.26: 

i  276,76 

i  ■ 

r  108.29e 

1 

Biennial  election  oi 

I  385,06' 

H 

senators  and  rep- 
resentatives   

.    105.58 

9  156.21 

1  261,80 

0  . 

[113.26^ 

1 

Nov.  ^ 

>,  Authorizing  the  gov 

- 

1907 

ernor,    with    th( 
consent  of  th 
council,  to  remov 

3 
3 
B 

justices  of  th 

e 

peace  and  notarie 
public 

s 
.    178.0C 

5     35.9S 

\9  213,9^ 

>4       373,69 

5      159.701 

1         - 

20 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 


majority  of  the  voters  of  the  State,  and  yet  this  list 
includes  the  vote  on  biennial  elections,  which  was 
debated  and  discussed  everywhere  for  many  weeks. 

Let  me  take  another  example  from  a  neighboring 
State,  the  State  of  Maine. 


VOTE    UPON    CONSTITUTIONAL    AMENDMENTS    AND    LAWS 
SUBMITTED   TO  THE   PEOPLE   OP  MAINE 


Year 


Amendment 


Vote  on  amendment 


Yes 


No      Total 


Vote  for 
governor 


Not 
voting 


1875 

1880 
1884 
1888 
1892 

1900 
1904 


Election  of  State  sena- 
tors by  a  plurality  vote 

Codification  of  amended 
constitution 

Election  of  governor  by 
plurality 

Amendments  to  prohib- 
itory laws 

Term  of  office  of  State 
treasurer 

Whether  adjutant-gen- 
eral should  be  ap- 
pointed or  elected 

Educational  qualifica- 
tion of  voters 

Whether  office  of  State 
auditor  should  be  cre- 
ated   

Increasing  compensa- 
tion of  members  of 
the  legislature 


16,419 
17.841 
57,015 
70,789 
12,947 

9.721 
25,775 

13,095 

11,047 


4,970 

3,104 

35,402 

23,811 

10.249 

9,509 
18,061 

16,609 

18,061 


21,389 
20,945 
92,417 
94,600 
23,223 

19,230 
43,836 

29,704 

44,582 


111.665 

147,802 
142,107 
145,384 

130,962 

117.878 
131,512 


90.276 
90.720 
55.385 
47.607 
122.160 

111,732 
87.126 

88.174 

86.930 


Let  us  examine  this  table  as  we  did  that  of  Massa- 
chusetts. In  only  two  cases  out  of  nine  did  more  than 
half  of  the  voters  who  went  to  the  polls  vote  upon  the 
question  submitted,  and  in  each  of  those  cases  a  third 
of  those  who  went  to  the  polls  failed  to  vote  on  the 
submitted  question,  quite  enough  in  each  case  to  have 
reversed  the  result.    In  five  of  the  remaining  seven 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  21 

less  than  a  fifth  of  the  voters  who  went  to  the  polls, 
and  in  two  only  a  quarter,  voted  on  the  submitted 
question. 

The  people  of  Maine  and  Massachusetts  are  of  a 
high  average  of  inteUigence.    They  are  active,  alert, 
and  have  been  for  generations  accustomed  to  deal  with 
every  form  of  political  questions,  and  yet  these  tables 
show  that  even  on  constitutional  amendments  sub- 
mitted on  the  ballot  no  expression  could  be  obtained 
from  a  large  majority  of  the  voters,  and,  as  a  rule,  not 
even  from  half  of  those  who  voted  for  governor  and 
representative.    It  is  apparent,  in  other  words,  that 
the  people  of  these  States  do  not  like  to  govern  them- 
selves in  this  way  and  that  the  very  men  who  will 
vote  for  governor  and  representative  will  not  vote  on 
submitted  questions,  because,  as  a  rule,  they  do  not 
feel  that  they  have  had  opportunity  to  consider  them 
and  do  not  take  a  proper  interest  in  them.    Such  a 
condition  of  things  proves  that  to  substitute  legislation 
by  ballot  for  legislation  by  representation  is  to  cripple 
the  rights  of  the  people  and  permit  interested,  fanatical, 
or  corrupt  factions,  by  superior  organization  and  in- 
tensity of  purpose,  to  dictate  the  laws  of  the  entire 
community. 

These  figures  show  the  absolute  truth  of  my  assertion 
that  questions  submitted  in  this  way  are  decided  by  a 
majority  of  a  minority,  and  if  this  is  true  of  constitu- 
tional amendments,  fully  and  plainly  stated,  you  can 


22  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

imagine  what  it  would  be  on  abstract  questions,  un- 
known, blind;  uncomprehended;  and  incomprehensible. 
These  figures  demonstrate  beyond  a  peradventure  that 
no  true  public  opinion  can  be  obtained  in  this  way, 
but  that  on  the  contrary  this  bill  is  a  scheme  to  secure 
legislation  which  could  not  obtain  the  assent  of  the 
voters  properly  expressed  through  chosen  and  respon- 
sible representatives.  It  is  a  device  to  enable  small 
and  active  minorities  to  obtain  legislation  which  they 
could  not  secure  by  legitimate  methods.  Representa- 
tives represent  the  whole  people.  This  bill  would 
force  upon  us  a  government  by  a  fraction  of  the  peo- 
ple and  would  defeat  the  will  of  the  real  majority  of 
the  people  themselves. 

Yet  the  legislature  would  have  no  choice.  They 
would  be  bound  in  conscience  and  in  practice,  if  not 
by  the  words  of  the  statute,  bound  in  a  manner  and 
forced  by  a  pressure  from  which  there  would  be  no 
escape,  to  obey  the  mandate  no  matter  how  obtained, 
and  no  man  could  tell  in  what  form  of  law  the  mandate 
would  be  finally  embodied.  The  chances  are  that  the 
law  under  the  pressure  of  the  mandate  would  be  the 
work  of  extremists  and  contrary  to  the  wishes  even  of 
those  who  voted  "yes''  on  the  abstract  proposition. 
There  could  be  no  greater  travesty  on  popular  govern- 
ment than  a  system  which  would  permit  a  majority 
of  a  minority  of  the  voters  to  force  upon  the  State  any 
law  they  chose.    It  would  give  an  enormous  oppor- 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  23 

tunity  to  the  power  of  money  skilfully  and  corruptly 
used.  It  would  impair  the  rights  of  the  people  and 
leave  those  of  the  individual  naked  and  defenceless. 
The  result  would  not  be  an  expression  of  the  popular 
will,  but  a  mechanical  parody  of  that  will  so  gross 
that  even  its  authors  would  gaze  upon  it  with  amaze- 
ment and  disgust. 

All  these  plans  to  make  the  people  carry  on  their 
government  by  impracticable  methods  are  not  only 
unjust  and  dangerous  to  the  people  and  to  the  public 
welfare,  but  they  tend  to  bring  all  popular  govern- 
ment into  discredit.  Do  not  misunderstand  me.  I 
attach  no  superstitious  reverence  to  forms  of  govern- 
ment. I  make  no  fetich  of  laws  and  constitutions,  for 
constitutions  are  made  for  men,  not  men  for  constitu- 
tions. I  have  no  patience  with  the  theory  held  by 
some  persons,  and  often  pernicious  in  its  activity,  that 
human  nature  can  be  changed  and  all  men  made  vir- 
tuous and  happy  by  statute.  People,  according  to  my 
observation,  get  in  the  long  run  the  government  they 
desire  and  deserve,  and  if  they  suffer  from  bad  govern- 
ment, it  is  because  they  are  too  inert,  or  too  incapable, 
or  too  timid,  or  perhaps  too  corrupt  to  secure  anything 
better.  Government  and  the  success  of  government  in 
the  last  analysis  depend  on  the  character  of  the  peo- 
ple themselves.  People  with  a  high  capacity  for  self- 
government  will  make  a  bad  system  work  well  or  at 
least  tolerably  well,  while  people  without  that  capacity 


24  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

will  come  to  confusion  and  ruin  under  the  most  ideally 
perfect  system  which  the  wit  of  man  can  devise.  But 
while  it  is  profoundly  true  that  people  make  laws,  not 
laws  people,  the  importance  and  effect  of  laws,  con- 
stitutions, and  political  institutions  are  none  the  less 
veiy  great.  The  essential  point  is  to  comprehend  in 
what  that  importance  consists  and  to  gauge  rightly 
the  effect  and  educational  force  of  laws  and  constitu- 
tions; in  a  word,  to  realize  what  laws  can  and  what 
they  cannot  do.  We  must  not  forget  that  if  statutes 
cannot  change  the  laws  of  nature,  it  is  equally  a  mis- 
take to  accept  the  Quietist  doctrine  of  Pope  when  he 
said  in  his  familiar  lines: 

"For  forms  of  government  let  fools  contest; 
Whate'er  is  best  administered  is  best." 

Allow  me  now  to  illustrate  my  meaning.  Wise 
economic  laws  affecting  the  currency  or  the  tariff 
cannot  of  themselves  make  prosperity.  They  can 
help  very  greatly  to  bring  prosperity  if  a  people  be 
energetic  and  industrious  and  other  conditions  are 
favorable,  but  alone  they  cannot  do  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  bad  economic  laws,  especially  such  as  affect  the 
circulating  medium,  can  unaided  and  alone  bring 
panic  and  disaster.  To  state  this  as  a  general  proposi- 
tion, we  may  say  that  while  the  effect  of  good  economic 
laws  for  good  is  limited,  the  effect  of  bad  economic 
laws  for  evil  is  unlimited.     The  power  of  economic 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  25 

statutes  to  injure  is  much  greater  than  their  power  to 
benefit. 

This  rule  appHes  not  only  to  all  economic  legislation 
but  to  all  laws.  There  is  no  panacea  for  human  ills 
to  be  found  in  statutes.  Statutes  may  help  greatly, 
they  may  and  do  modify  and  alleviate  and  improve 
evil  conditions,  they  may,  according  to  the  theory  of 
Aristotle,  direct  the  conduct  of  men  to  a  moral  result, 
but  there  their  possibilities  end,  and  many  misfortunes 
have  happened  to  mankind  from  the  mistaken  concep- 
tion of  the  potentialities  of  statute-making.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  power  of  bad  laws  to  bring  on  ruin,  dis- 
aster, civil  strife,  and  the  downfall  of  governments  and 
nations  is  practically  unbounded.  It  is,  then,  of  the 
last  importance  to  consider  carefully  what  the  full 
effect  of  any  law  will  be  and  not  to  open  the  door  for 
the  sake  of  an  apparent  remedy  for  some  special  evil 
to  a  thousand  worse  evils  which  might  involve  all  in  a 
common  disaster.  Therefore  laws  not  only  assume  a 
vast  importance,  but  also  the  methods  and  instmmen- 
talities  by  which  they  are  made.  Good  laws  are  not 
to  be  expected  if  you  impose  conditions  upon  their 
making  incompatible  with  good  results.  The  best 
glazier  in  the  world  cannot  cut  a  square  of  glass  if  you 
insist  that  he  shall  do  it  with  a  broadaxe  or  a  pointed 
stick.  Under  such  conditions  he  would  merely  smash 
the  glass,  and  you  and  not  he  would  be  to  blame.  You 
must  give  him  a  diamond  point,  and  you  will  get  your 


26  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

window-pane.  You  can  impose  conditions  upon  a 
people  under  which  it  will  be  impossible  for  them  to 
secure  good  legislation,  and  it  will  not  be  any  reflec- 
tion upon  them  or  their  capacity  for  self-government  if 
they  bring  forth  laws  which  work  ruin  and  disaster 
as  widespread  as  they  are  needless.  It  shows  no  more 
distmst  to  insist  that  the  people  shall  use  wise  and  well- 
tried  methods  of  legislation  to  obtain  the  laws  they 
desire  than  it  shows  distrust  of  the  glazier  to  insist 
that  he  shall  use  a  proper  tool  to  cut  his  square  of  glass. 

I  have  heard  it  asked  whether  those  who  opposed 
this  bill  thought  that  the  American  people  had  ever 
decided  a  great  question  wrongly.  My  answer  would 
be  '^ no"  so  far  as  concerns  all  the  greatest  questions  of 
our  history  which  have  been  decided  by  the  people  on 
full  consideration  and  under  the  conditions  prescribed 
by  our  Constitutions  and  laws.  The  Revolution,  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitution,  the  preservation  of  the 
Union,  the  abolition  of  slavery,  the  integrity  of  the 
public  debt,  the  maintenance  of  the  gold  standard, 
all  these  great  questions  were  decided  by  the  people 
rightly  and  nobly,  but  only  after  years  of  discussion 
and  under  the  conditions  of  representative  government. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  ask  me  if  the  popular 
decision  in  a  moment  of  excitement  and  clamor,  with 
no  opportunities  for  deliberate  discussion,  has  always 
been  right,  I  answer  "no,"  and  I  will  give  you  an 
example  from  the  history  of  this  State.    A  little  more 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  27 

than  fifty  years  ago  there  was  a  movement  here  called 
the  Native  American  or  Know  Nothing  movement.  It 
was  carried  on  by  secret  oath-bound  organizations. 
They  not  only  swept  the  State  and  crushed  Whigs  and 
Democrats  out  of  existence,  but  they  actually  elected 
all  but  two  of  the  members  of  the  legislature.  If  they 
had  not  been  restrained  by  the  Constitution  and  by  the 
laws  and  the  methods  of  representative  government, 
they  would  have  excluded  from  citizenship  every  man  of 
foreign  birth  or  of  a  different  religion  from  their  own. 
If  they  had  been  acting  under  a  popular  mandate, 
which  would  have  been  easily  obtained  in  that  year, 
to  the  effect  that  only  citizens  of  American  birth  and 
of  the  Protestant  faith  should  be  entitled  to  citizenship, 
that  constitutional  change  would  have  been  made.  But 
as  there  was  no  Public  Opinion  Law  the  legislature  were 
only  bound  to  the  general  principles  of  their  party;  they 
were  not  deprived  of  motion  and  sense  of  responsibility 
by  a  mandate.  They  were  open,  even  with  all  their  power, 
to  the  effect  of  public  opinion  expressed  by  a  strong 
minority  outside,  and  they  had  time  for  reflection  and 
for  cooling  down.  Thus,  by  the  forms  of  representa- 
tive government  and  by  the  absence  of  anything  re- 
sembling the  mandate  for  which  the  Public  Opinion  Bill 
provides,  they  were  held  back  from  the  violent  extremes 
which  the  passions  flagrant  at  the  election  would  have 
demanded  and  enforced.  I  think  it  was  very  fortu- 
nate that  they  were  so  restrained,  because  the  decision 


28  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

of  the  people  at  the  polls  in  that  year  of  passion  and 
excitement  was,  in  my  opinion,  utterly  wrong,  when 
tried  by  the  true  principles  of  free  American  govern- 
ment. In  a  few  years  every  one  else  thought  so,  too, 
after  the  madness  had  passed.  You  say  such  things 
could  not  happen  to-day.  I  hope  not,  but  human 
passions  have  not  changed,  and  in  moments  of  excite- 
ment men  are  capable  of  acts  which,  on  reflection,  they 
would  not  entertain  for  a  moment.  It  is  to  secure 
ample  opportunity  for  deliberation  and  reflection  that 
representative  government  exists,  and  it  is  incon- 
ceivably precious  not  only  to  the  individual  man, 
whose  rights  are  at  stake,  but  to  the  wider  interests 
of  the  whole  community. 

I  trust  the  people  fully.  I  believe,  what  the  authors 
of  the  bill  deny,  that  they  are  able  to  choose  their  own 
representatives  and  to  control  them.  I  do  not  think 
the  people  are  so  weak  or  so  stupid  that  they  cannot 
choose  men  who  will  fitly  represent  them,  and  that 
they  cannot  reject  their  representatives  if  those  rep- 
resentatives do  not  perform  their  duties.  I  think  the 
people  are  eminently  capable  of  governing  themselves 
by  proper  methods,  and  that  their  power  should  not 
be  distorted  and  crippled  by  impossible  devices.  But 
the  great  and  fundamental  objection  to  this  bill  is  the 
destruction  of  the  representative  principle  which  it 
necessarily  involves.  When  that  is  broken  down 
nothing  remains  but  the  executive  and  the  courts. 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  29 

With  the  representatives  deprived  of  power  the  courts 
would  not  long  retain  their  independence,  and  when 
the  executive  department  alone  survives  we  are  well 
on  the  road  to  despotism.  The  resort  to  the  plebiscite 
is  the  favorite  device  of  the  usurper  and  saviour  of  so- 
ciety. His  opportunity  comes  when  disorder,  license, 
and  wild  legislation  have  driven  the  mass  of  men 
to  a  readiness  to  sacrifice  liberty  in  the  determination 
to  have  peace  and  order,  a  sad  and  desperate  situation, 
famihar,  unhappily,  in  the  world's  history.  Moreover, 
the  advent  of  the  strong  man  and  the  army  is  always 
coincident  with  the  breaking  down  of  representative 
government.  What  we  want,  above  all  things,  is  to 
preserve  the  representative  bodies  which  have  ever 
been  the  guardians  of  freedom  and  of  popular  liberties 
in  this  country.  I  trust  the  people  so  thoroughly  that 
I  believe  they  can  conduct  their  government  with  honor 
and  success,  as  they  have  done  for  so  many  generations. 
Times  change  and  conditions  change  with  them.  We 
must  meet  the  new  times  and  the  change  in  conditions 
with  the  legislation  which  they  demand,  but  in  dealing 
with  our  new  problems  it  is  not  necessary  to  cast  away 
the  instrument  by  which  every  reform  and  every  im- 
provement have  hitherto  been  effected.  I  am  not  one 
of  those  who  believe  that  all  wisdom  died  with  our 
forefathers.  I  am  equally  far  from  believing  that  all 
wisdom  was  born  yesterday.  This  is  not  a  new  ques- 
tion, but  involves  the  oldest  theories  of  government. 


30  THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL 

and  here,  if  anywhere,  history  and  experience  are  safe 
and  illuminating  guides  which  only  ignorance  and  folly 
would  neglect  or  disregard.  The  great  men  who  framed 
our  Constitution  provided  both  in  state  and  nation 
for  checks  and  balances  because  they  believed  that 
the  rights  of  the  people  could  only  be  protected  if 
every  possible  safeguard  was  thrown  around  the  law- 
making power.  They  believed  that  that  power  ought 
only  to  be  exercised  with  the  utmost  care  and  delibera- 
tion, and  in  seeking  that  care  and  deliberation  they 
believed  that  they  were  protecting  the  rights  of  the 
people.  They  saw  in  hasty  legislation  great  perils, 
and  they  never  had  the  slightest  fear  that  the  legisla- 
tive body  would  not  respond  quickly  enough  to  the 
popular  wishes.  They  had  a  great  dread  of  executive 
power  and  a  deep  desire  to  protect  the  rights  of  minor- 
ities. The  majority,  they  believed,  ought  to  rule,  but 
they  wdshed  to  be  very  sure  that  majority  rule  should 
not  be  rashly  or  hastily  exercised.  They  wished  the 
members  of  a  majority  to  remember  that  they  might 
find  themselves  any  day  in  a  minority,  and  therefore 
they  took  the  utmost  pains  to  secure  every  opportu- 
nity in  legislation  for  debate  and  amendment. 

"  They  wished  men  to  be  free, 
As  much  from  mobs  as  kings,  from  you  as  me." 

Experience  has  shown  us  the  justice  of  their  opin- 
ions.   This  bill  invites  us  to  cast  aside  all  that  they 


THE  PUBLIC  OPINION  BILL  31 

did,  break  down  every  method  of  lawmaking  which 
they  estabhshed,  and  reject  that  principle  which  they 
most  valued— the  principle  of  representation.    I  say, 
reject  the  principle  of  representation,  because  when 
you  impair  it  and  take  from  your  representatives  all 
power  and  all  responsibility,  the  principle  of  repre- 
sentation falls.    No  men  invested  with  the  power  to 
make  laws,  but  relieved  of  all  responsibility  for  the 
laws  they  make,  are  to  be  trusted.    We  may  change 
many  things,  we  may  abolish  laws  and  put  new  ones 
in  their  place,  but  we  cannot  alter  the  fundamental 
principles  of  our  government  and  expect  the  fabric  to 
stand.    If  we  undermine  and  overthrow  the  bulwarks 
of  ordered  liberty  and  individual  freedom,  the  citadel 
itself  will  not  long  survive.    Any  measure  which  breaks 
down  free  representative   government,   advances  us 
proportionately  on  the  road  to  executive  government, 
to  the  rule  of  one  man.    This  Public  Opinion  Bill  wiU 
reduce  the  representative  on  one  question  after  another 
to  the  level  of  a  machine.    As  the  representative  prin- 
ciple sinks  the  executive  power  rises.     I  believe  in 
maintaining  both  and  maiming  neither.    I  am  opposed 
to  crippling  and  extinguishing  representative  govern- 
ment.   I  love  freedom  and  hate  tyranny,  and  anything 
which  depresses  the  one  and  opens  the  road  to  the 
other  will  meet  with  resistance  from  me.    It  is  for  this 
reason  that  I  oppose  this  bill. 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  ^ 

Before  this  society  and  on  such  an  occasion,  to 
speak  on  any  topic  not  connected  with  the  history  of 
our  common  country  would  hardly  be  possible  and 
would  certainly  not  be  fitting.  I  have,  therefore, 
chosen  a  subject  which  touches  the  history  of  the  United 
States  at  every  point.  I  shall  try  to  set  before  you 
some  of  the  results  of  a  great  work  in  which  your  State 
and  mine  alike  took  part  a  century  and  a  quarter  ago, 
and  which  possesses  an  interest  and  an  importance  as 
deep  and  as  living  to-day  as  at  the  moment  of  its  in- 
ception. I  shall  touch  upon  some  present  questions, 
but  I  shall  speak  without  the  remotest  reference  to 
politics  or  parties,  for  my  subject  transcends  both.  I 
shall  speak  as  a  student  of  our  history  with  reverence 
for  the  past  and  with  a  profound  faith  in  the  future. 
In  a  word,  I  shall  speak  simply  as  an  American  who 
loves  his  country  ''now  and  forever,  one  and  insepa- 
rable.'^ 

A  little  less  than  twenty-five  years  ago  great  crowds 
thronged  the  streets  of  Philadelphia.  Men  and  women 
were  there  from  all  parts  of  the  United  States;  the 

*  An  address  delivered  before  the  Literary  and  Historical  Association 
of  North  Carolina  at  Raleigh,  N.  C,  November  28,  1911. 

32 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  33 

city  was  resplendent  with  waving  flags  and  brilliant 
with  all  the  decorations  which  ingenuity  could  suggest, 
while  the  nights  were  made  bright  by  illuminations 
which  shone  on  every  building.  Great  processions 
passed  along  the  streets,  headed  by  troops  from  the 
thirteen  original  States,  marching  in  unusual  order,  with 
Delaware  at  the  head,  because  that  little  State  had 
been  the  first  to  accept  the  great  instrument  of  govern- 
ment which  now,  having  attained  its  hundredth  year, 
was  celebrated  in  the  city  of  its  birth.  Behind  the 
famous  hall  where  independence  was  declared  an 
immense  crowd  listened  to  commemorative  speakers, 
and  the  President  of  the  United  States,  a  Democrat, 
honored  the  occasion  with  his  presence  and  his  words. 

Two  years  later,  in  1889,  the  same  scenes  were  re- 
peated in  New  York.  Again  the  cannon  thundered 
and  again  flags  waved  above  the  heads  of  the  multi- 
tude gathered  in  the  streets,  through  which  marched  a 
long  procession,  both  military  and  civil,  headed  as 
before  by  the  representatives  of  the  original  thirteen 
States.  Again,  at  a  great  banquet,  addresses  were 
delivered,  and  once  more  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  this  time  a  Republican,  honored  the  occasion 
by  his  presence,  and  in  the  name  of  all  the  people  of 
the  country  praised  the  work  of  our  ancestors. 

In  Philadelphia  we  celebrated  the  one-hundredth 
anniversary  of  the  formation  of  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States.    In  New  York  we  commemorated  the 


34  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

one-hundredth  anniversary  of  the  inauguration  of  the 
government  which  that  Constitution  had  brought  into 
being.  Through  all  the  rejoicings  of  those  days,  in 
every  spoken  and  in  every  written  word,  ran  one  un- 
broken strain  of  praise  for  the  great  instrument  and  of 
gratitude  to  the  men  who,  in  the  exercise  of  the  highest 
wisdom,  had  framed  it  and  brought  it  forth.  All  men 
recalled  that  it  had  made  a  nation  from  thirteen  jarring 
States;  that  it  had  proved  in  its  interpretation  flexible 
to  meet  new  conditions  and  strong  to  withstand  in- 
justice and  wrong;  that  it  had  survived  the  shock  of 
civil  war;  and  that  under  it  liberty  had  been  protected 
and  order  maintained.  The  paean  of  praise  rose  up 
from  all  parts  of  this  broad  land  unmarred  by  a  dis- 
cordant note.  Every  one  agreed  with  Gladstone's  fa- 
mous declaration,  that  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  was  the  greatest  political  instrument  ever 
struck  off  on  a  single  occasion  by  the  minds  of  men. 
We  seemed,  indeed,  by  all  we  then  said  and  did  to 
justify  those  foreign  critics  who  reproached  us  with  our 
blind  reverence  for  our  Constitution  and  our  almost 
superstitious  behef  in  its  absolute  wisdom  and  unex- 
ampled perfections. 

Those  celebrations  of  the  framing  of  the  Constitu- 
tion and  of  the  inauguration  of  the  government  have 
been  almost  forgotten.  More  than  twenty  years  have 
come  and  gone  since  the  cheers  of  the  crowds  which 
then  filled  the  streets  of  New  York  and  Philadelphia 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  35 

—  since  the  reverberations  of  the  cannon  and  the  elo- 
quent voices  of  the  orators  died  away  into  silence. 
And  with  those  years,  not  very  many  after  all,  a  change 
seems  to  have  come  in  the  spirit  which  at  that  time 
pervaded  the  American  people  from  the  President 
down  to  the  humblest  citizen  in  the  land.  Instead  of 
the  universal  chorus  of  praise  and  gratitude  to  the 
framers  of  the  Constitution  the  air  is  now  rent  with 
harsh  voices  of  criticism  and  attack;  while  the  vast 
mass  of  the  American  people,  still  believing  in  their 
Constitution  and  their  government,  look  on  and  listen, 
bewildered  and  confused,  dumb  thus  far  from  mere 
surprise,  and  deafened  by  the  discordant  outcry  so 
suddenly  raised  against  that  which  they  have  always 
reverenced  and  held  in  honor.  Many  excellent  persons 
believe  apparently  that  beneficent  results  can  be  at- 
tained by  certain  proposed  alterations  in  the  Constitu- 
tion, often,  I  venture  to  think,  without  examination 
of  the  history  and  theory  of  government  and  without 
measuring  the  extent  or  weighing  the  meaning  of  the 
changes  which  are  urged  upon  us.  But  it  is  also  true 
that  every  one  who  is  in  distress,  or  in  debt,  or  discon- 
tented, now  assails  the  Constitution,  merely  because 
such  is  the  present  passion.  Every  reformer  of  other 
people's  misdeeds  —  all  of  that  numerous  class  which 
is  ever  seeking  to  promote  virtue  at  somebody  else's 
expense  —  pause  in  their  labors  to  point  out  the  sup- 
posed shortcomings  of  our  national  charter.     Eveiy 


36  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

raw  demagogue,  eveiy  noisy  agitator,  incapable  of  con- 
nected thought  and  seeking  his  own  advancement  by 
the  easy  method  of  appealing  to  envy,  malice,  and  all 
uncharitableness  —  those  unlovely  qualities  in  human 
nature  which  so  readily  seek  for  gratification  under  the 
mask  of  high-sounding  and  noble  attributes  —  all  such 
people  now  lift  their  hands  to  tear  down  or  remake 
the  Constitution.  In  House  and  Senate  one  can  hear 
attacks  upon  it  at  any  time  and  listen  to  men  deriding 
its  framers  and  their  work.  No  longer  are  we  criti- 
cised by  outsiders  for  having  a  superstitious  reverence 
for  our  Constitution.  Quite  recently  I  read  an  article 
by  an  English  member  of  Parliament  (Mr.  L.  T.  Hob- 
house),  a  Liberal,  I  believe,  with  Socialist  proclivities, 
who  said  that  this  reproach  of  an  undue  veneration  for 
the  Constitution  ought  no  longer  to  be  brought  against 
us,  because  beneficent  and  progressive  spirits  were  al- 
ready beginning  to  pull  it  to  pieces  and  were  seeking 
to  modernize  it  in  conformity  with  the  clamor  of  the 
moment.  All  this  is  quite  new  in  our  history.  We 
have  as  a  people  deeply  reverenced  our  Constitution. 
We  have  realized  what  it  has  accomplished  and  what 
protection  it  has  given  to  ordered  freedom  and  in- 
dividual liberty.  Even  the  Abolitionists,  when  they 
denounced  the  Constitution  for  the  shelter  which  it 
afforded  to  slavery,  did  not  deny  its  success  in  other 
directions,  and  their  hostility  to  the  Constitution  was 
one  of  the  most  deadly  weapons  used  against  them. 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  37 

The  enmity  to  the  Constitution  and  the  attacks 
upon  it  which  have  developed  in  the  last  few  years 
present  a  situation  of  the  utmost  gravity.  If  allowed 
to  continue  without  answer,  they  may  mislead  public 
opinion  and  produce  the  most  baneful  results.  The 
people  of  the  United  States  may  come  to  believe  that 
all  these  attacks,  in  a  measure,  at  least,  are  true. 
Therefore  if  they  are  not  true,  their  falsity  ought  to  be 
shown.  Beside  the  question  of  the  maintenance  or 
destruction  of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
all  other  questions  of  law  and  policies  sink  into  utter 
insignificance.  In  its  presence  party  lines  should  dis- 
appear and  all  sectional  differences  melt  away  like 
the  early  mists  of  dawn  before  the  rising  sun.  The 
Constitution  is  our  fundamental  law.  Upon  its  pro- 
visions rests  the  entire  fabric  of  our  institutions.  It 
is  the  oldest  of  written  constitutions.  It  has  served 
as  a  model  for  many  nations,  both  in  the  Old  World 
and  in  the  New.  It  has  disappointed  the  expectations 
of  those  who  opposed  it,  convinced  those  who  doubted, 
and  won  a  success  beyond  the  most  glowing  hopes  of 
those  who  put  faith  in  it.  Such  a  work  is  not  to  be 
lightly  cast  down  or  set  aside,  or,  which  would  be  still 
worse,  remade  by  crude  thinkers  and  by  men  who  live 
only  to  serve  and  flatter  in  their  own  interest  the  emo- 
tion of  the  moment.  We  should  approach  the  great 
subject  as  our  ancestors  approached  it  —  simply  as 
Americans  with  a  deep  sense  of  its  seriousness  and  with 


38  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

a  clear  determination  to  deal  with  it  only  upon  full 
knowledge  and  after  the  most  mature  and  calm  reflec- 
tion. The  time  has  come  to  do  this,  not  only  here  and 
now,  but  everywhere  throughout  the  country. 

Let  us  first  consider  who  the  men  were  who  made 
the  Constitution  and  under  what  conditions  they 
worked.  Then  let  us  determine  exactly  what  they 
meant  to  do  —  a  most  vital  point,  for  much  of  the 
discussion  to  which  we  have  been  treated  thus  far  has 
proceeded  upon  a  complete  misapprehension  of  the 
purpose  and  intent  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitution. 
Finally,  let  us  bring  their  work  and  their  purposes  to 
the  bar  of  judgment,  so  that  we  may  decide  whether 
they  have  failed,  whether  in  their  theory  of  govern- 
ment they  were  right  or  wrong  then  and  now,  or  whether 
their  work  has  stood  the  test  of  time,  is  broad  based 
on  eternal  principles  of  justice,  and,  if  rent,  or  mangled, 
or  destroyed,  would  not  in  its  ruin  bring  disaster  and 
woes  inestimable  upon  the  people  who  shall  wreck 
their  great  inheritance,  and  like 

"  The  base  Indian,  throw  a  pearl  away, 
Richer  than  all  his  tribe. '* 

First,  then,  of  the  men  who  met  in  Philadelphia  in 
May,  1787,  with  doubts  and  fears  oppressing  them, 
but  with  calm,  high  courage  and  with  a  noble  aspira- 
tion to  save  their  country  from  the  miseries  which 
threatened  it,  to  lead  it  out  from  the  wilderness  of 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  39 

distractions  in  which  it  was  wandering  bHnd  and  help- 
less, into  the  Hght,  so  that  the  chaos,  hateful  alike  to 
God  and  man,  might  be  ended  and  order  put  in  its 
place.  It  is  the  fashion  just  now  to  speak  of  the 
framers  of  the  Constitution  as  worthy,  able,  and  pa- 
triotic persons  whom  we  are  proud  to  have  embalmed 
in  our  history,  but  toward  whom  no  enlightened  man 
would  now  think  of  turning  seriously  for  either  guid- 
ance or  instruction,  so  thoroughly  has  everything  been 
altered  and  so  much  has  intelligence  advanced.  It  is 
commonly  said  that  they  dealt  wisely  and  well  with 
the  problems  of  their  day,  but  that  of  course  they  knew 
nothing  of  those  which  confront  us,  and  that  it  would 
be  worse  than  folly  to  be  in  any  degree  governed  by 
the  opinions  of  men  who  lived  under  such  wholly  dif- 
ferent conditions.  It  seems  to  me  that  this  view  leaves 
something  to  be  desired  and  is  not  wholly  correct  or 
complete.  I  certainly  do  not  think  that  all  wisdom 
died  with  our  fathers,  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  it  was 
not  born  yesterday.  I  fully  realize  that  in  sa3dng  even 
this  I  show  myself  to  be  what  is  called  old-fashioned, 
and  I  know  that  a  study  of  history,  which  has  been 
one  of  the  pursuits  of  my  life,  tends  to  make  a  man 
give  more  weight  to  the  teachings  of  the  past  than  they 
are  now  thought  to  deserve.  Yet,  after  all  allowance 
is  made,  I  cannot  but  feel  that  there  is  something  to 
be  learned  from  the  men  who  established  the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  and  that  their  opinions, 


40  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

the  result  of  much  and  deep  reflection,  are  not  without 
value,  even  to  the  wisest  among  us. 

On  questions  of  this  character,  I  think,  their  ideas 
and  conclusions  are  not  lightly  to  be  put  aside;  for, 
after  all,  however  much  we  may  now  gently  patronize 
them  as  good  old  patriots  long  since  laid  in  their 
honored  graves,  they  were  noiiff^the  less  very  remark- 
able men,  who  would  have  been  eminent  in  any  period 
of  history  and  might  even,  if  alive  now,  attain  to  dis- 
tinction. Let  us  glance  over  the  list  of  delegates  to 
the  Constitutional  Convention  in  Philadelphia  in 
1787.  I  find,  to  begin  with,  that  their  average  age 
was  43,  which  is  not  an  extreme  senectitude,  and  the 
ages  range  from  Franklin,  who  was  81,  to  John  Francis 
Mercer,  of  Virginia,  who  was  28.  Among  the  older 
men  who  were  conspicuous  in  the  convention  were 
Franklin,  with  his  more  than  80  years;  Washington, 
who  was  55;  Roger  Sherman,  who  was  66;  and  Mason 
and  W3rthe,  of  Virginia,  who  were  both  61.  But 
when  I  looked  to  see  who  were  the  most  active  forces 
in  that  convention,  I  found  that  the  New  Jersey  plan 
was  brought  forward  by  William  Paterson,  who  was 
42;  that  the  Virginia  plan  was  proposed  by  Edmund 
Randolph,  who  was  34;  while  Charles  Pinckney,  of 
South  Carolina,  whose  plan  played  a  large  part  in  the 
making  of  the  Constitution,  was  only  29.  The  great- 
est single  argument,  perhaps,  which  was  made  in  the 
convention  was  that  of  Hamilton,  who  was  30.    The 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  41 

man  who  contributed  more,  possibly,  than  any  other 
to  the  daily  labors  of  the  convention  and  who  followed 
every  detail  was  Madison,  who  was  36.  The  Con- 
necticut compromise  was  very  largely  the  work  of 
Ellsworth,  who  was  42;  and  the  committee  on  style, 
which  made  the  final  draft,  was  headed  by  Gouvemeur 
Morris,  who  was  35.  Let  us  note,  then,  at  the  outset 
that  youth  and  energy,  abounding  hope,  and  the 
sympathy  for  the  new  times  stretching  forward  into 
the  great  and  uncharted  future,  as  well  as  high  ability, 
were  conspicuous  among  the  men  who  framed  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States. 

Their  presiding  officer  was  Washington,  one  of  the 
great  men  of  all  time,  who  had  led  the  country  through 
seven  years  of  war,  and  of  whom  it  has  been  said  by  an 
English  historian  that  "no  nobler  figure  ever  stood  in 
the  forefront  of  a  nation's  fife."  Next  comes  Franklin, 
the  great  man  of  science,  the  great  diplomatist,  the 
great  statesman  and  politician,  the  great  writer;  one 
of  the  most  brilHant  intellects  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, who  in  his  long  fife  had  known  cities  and  men 
as  few  others  have  ever  known  them.  There  was 
Hamilton,  one  of  the  greatest  constmctive  minds  that 
modern  statesmanship  has  to  show,  to  whose  writings 
German  statesmen  turned  when  they  were  forming 
their  empire  forty  years  ago  and  about  whom  in  these 
later  days  books  are  written  in  England,  because  Eng- 
lishmen find  in  the  principal  author  of  the  Federalist 


42  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

the  great  exponent  of  the  doctrines  of  successful 
federation.  There,  too,  was  Madison,  statesman  and 
lawmaker,  wise,  astute,  careful,  destined  to  be,  under 
the  government  which  he  was  helping  to  make.  Sec- 
retary of  State  and  President.  Roger  Sherman  was 
there,  sagacious,  able,  experienced;  one  of  the  leaders 
of  the  Revolution  and  a  signer  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  as  he  was  of  the  Constitution.  Trained 
and  eminent  lawyers  were  present  in  Philadelphia  in 
that  memorable  summer  of  1787,  such  men  as  Ells- 
worth and  Wilson  and  Mason  and  Wythe.  It  was,  in 
a  word,  a  very  remarkable  body  which  assembled  to 
frame  a  constitution  for  the  United  States.  Its  mem- 
bers were  men  of  the  world,  men  of  affairs,  soldiers, 
lawyers,  statesmen,  diplomatists,  versed  in  history, 
widely  accomplished,  deeply  familiar  with  human 
nature.  I  think  that  without  an  undue  or  slavish 
reverence  for  the  past  or  for  the  men  of  a  former  gen- 
eration, we  may  fairly  say  that  in  patriotism  and  in 
intellect,  in  knowledge,  experience,  and  calmness  of 
judgment,  these  framers  of  the  Constitution  compare 
not  unfavorably  with  those  prophets  and  thinkers  of 
to-day  who  decry  the  work  of  1787,  who  seek  to  make 
it  over  with  all  modern  improvements,  and  who  with 
unconscious  humor  declare  that  they  are  engaged  in 
the  restoration  of  popular  government. 

That  phrase  is  in  itself  suggestive.    That  which  has 
never  existed  cannot  be  restored.    If  popular  govern- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  43 

ment  is  to  be  restored  in  the  United  States  it  must 
have  prevailed  under  the  Constitution  as  it  is,  and  yet 
those  who,  just  now,  are  so  devoured  by  anxiety  for 
the  rights  of  the  people,  propose  to  effect  the  restora- 
tion they  demand  by  changing  the  very  Constitution 
under  which  popular  government  is  admitted  by  their 
own  words  to  have  existed.  I  will  point  out  presently 
the  origin  of  this  confusion  of  thought.  It  is  enough 
to  say  now  that  for  more  than  a  century  no  one  ques- 
tioned that  the  government  of  the  Constitution  was 
in  the  fullest  sense  a  popular  government.  In  1863 
Lincoln,  in  one  of  the  greatest  speeches  ever  uttered 
by  man,  declared  that  he  was  engaged  in  trying  to 
save  government  by  the  people.  Nearly  thirty  years 
later,  when  we  celebrated  the  one-hundredth  anniver- 
sary of  the  Constitution,  the  universal  opinion  was  still 
the  same.  All  men  then  agreed  that  the  government 
which  had  passed  through  the  fires  of  civil  war  was  a 
popular  government.  Indeed,  this  novel  idea  of  the 
loss  of  popular  government  which  it  is  proposed  to 
restore  by  mangling  the  Constitution  under  which  it 
has  existed  for  more  than  a  century  is  very  new;  in 
fact,  hardly  ten  years  old. 

This  first  conception  of  our  Constitution  as  an  instru- 
ment of  popular  government,  so  long  held  unques- 
tioned, was  derived  from  the  framers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion themselves.  They  knew  perfectly  well  that  they 
were  founding  a  government  which  was  to  be  popular 


44  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

in  the  broadest  sense.  The  theory  now  sedulously 
propagated,  that  these  great  men  did  not  know  what 
they  were  about,  or  were  pretending  to  do  one  thing 
while  they  really  did  another,  is  one  of  the  most  fan- 
tastic delusions  with  which  agitators  have  ever  at- 
tempted to  mislead  or  perplex  the  public  mind.  The 
makers  of  the  Constitution  may  have  been  right  or 
they  may  have  been  wrong  in  the  principles  upon  which 
they  acted  or  in  the  work  they  accomplished,  but  they 
knew  precisely  what  they  meant  to  do  and  why  they 
did  it.  No  man  in  history  ever  faced  facts  with  a 
clearer  gaze  than  George  Washington,  and  when,  after 
the  adjournment  of  the  convention,  he  said,  ^^  We  have 
raised  a  standard  to  which  the  good  and  wise  can  re- 
pair; the  event  is  in  the  hands  of  God,''  he  labored 
under  no  misapprehension  as  to  the  character  of  the 
great  instrument  where  his  name  led  all  the  rest. 

It  is  the  fashion  to  say  that  since  then  great  changes 
have  occurred  and  wholly  new  conditions  have  arisen 
of  which  the  men  of  1787  could  by  no  possibility  have 
had  any  knowledge  or  anticipation.  This  is  quite 
true.  They  could  not  have  foreseen  the  application 
of  steam  to  transportation,  or  of  electricity  to  communi- 
cation, which  have  wrought  greater  changes  in  human 
environment  than  anything  which  has  happened  to 
man  since  those  dim,  prehistoric,  unrecorded  days 
when  some  one  discovered  the  control  of  fire,  invented 
the  wheel,  and  devised  the  signs  for  language,  master- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  45 

pieces  of  intelligence  with  which  even  the  marvels  of 
the  last  century  cannot  stand  comparison.  The  men 
of  the  Constitution  could  as  little  have  foreseen  what 
the  effects  of  steam  and  electricity  would  be  as  they 
could  have  anticipated  the  social  and  economic  effects 
of  these  great  inventions  or  the  rapid  seizure  of  the 
resources  of  nature  through  the  advances  of  science  and 
the  vast  fortunes  and  combinations  of  capital  which 
have  thus  been  engendered.  Could  they,  however, 
with  prophetic  gaze  have  beheld  in  a  mirror  of  the 
future  all  these  new  forces  at  work,  so  powerful  as  to 
affect  the  very  environment  of  himian  life,  even  then 
they  would  not,  I  think,  have  altered  materially  the 
Constitution  which  they  were  slowly  and  painfully  per- 
fecting. They  would  have  kept  on  their  way,  because 
they  would  have  seen  plainly  what  is  now  too  often 
overlooked  and  misunderstood,  that  all  the  perplexing 
and  difficult  problems  born  of  these  inventions  and  of 
the  changes,  both  social  and  economic,  which  have 
followed  were  subjects  to  be  dealt  with  by  laws  as  the 
questions  arose,  and  laws  and  policies  were  not  their 
business.  They  were  not  making  laws  to  regulate  or 
to  affect  either  social  or  economic  conditions.  Their 
work  was  not  only  higher  but  far  different.  They  /  / 
were  laying  down  certain  great  principles  upon  which 
a  government  was  to  be  built  and  by  which  laws  and 
policies  were  to  be  tested  as  gold  is  tested  by  a  touch- 
stone. 


46  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

Upon  the  work  in  which  they  were  engaged  social 
and  economic  changes  or  alterations  in  international 
relations  and  political  conditions,  no  matter  how  pro- 
fomid  or  unforeseen  —  and  none  could  have  been  more 
profound  or  more  unforeseen  than  those  which  have 
actually  taken  place  —  had  little  bearing  or  effect. 
They  were  framing  a  government,  and  human  nature 
was  the  one  great  and  controlling  element  in  their 
problem.  Human  nature,  with  its  strength  and  its 
weakness,  its  passions  and  emotions  so  often  dominating 
its  reason,  its  selfish  desires  and  its  nobler  aspirations, 
was  the  same  then  as  now.  There  is  no  factor  so  con- 
stant in  human  affairs  as  human  nature  itself,  and  in 
its  essential  attributes  it  is  the  same  to-day  as  it  was 
among  the  builders  of  the  Pyramids.  As  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  government  which  the  framers  of  the  Con- 
stitution wished  to  adapt  to  that  portion  of  human 
nature  which  had  gained  a  foothold  on  the  North 
American  continent  there  was  little  to  be  discovered. 
There  is  no  greater  fallacy  than  to  suppose  that  new 
and  fundamental  principles  of  government  are  con- 
stantly to  be  invented  and  wrought  out.  Laws  change 
and  must  change  with  the  march  of  humanity  across 
the  centuries  as  it  alteration  finds  in  the  conditions 
about  it,  but  fundamental  principles  and  theories  of 
government  are  all  extremely  old.  The  very  words  in 
which  we  must  express  ourselves  when  we  speak  of 
forms  of  government  are  all  ancient.    Let  me  recall  a 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  47 

few  facts  which  every  schoolboy  knows  and  which 
any  one  can  obtain  by  indulging  in  that  too  much 
neglected  exercise  of  examining  a  dictionaiy.  An- 
archy, for  example,  is  the  Greek  word  "rule,"  or  "com- 
mand," with  the  alpha  privative  in  the  form  of  "an" 
prefixed,  and  means  the  state  of  a  people  without 
government.  Monarchy  is  the  rule  of  one;  ohgarchy 
is  the  rule  of  a  few.  We  cannot  state  what  our  own 
government  is  without  using  the  word  "democracy," 
which  is  merely  the  Greek  word  Arj/xoKparia^  and 
means  popular  government,  or  the  rule  of  the  people. 
Aristocracy,  ideally  as  Aristotle  had  it,  is  the  rule  of 
the  best,  but  even  in  those  days  it  meant  in  practice 
the  rule  of  the  best-born  or  nobles.  Plutocracy  is  the 
rule  of  the  rich;  autocracy,  self-derived  power  —  the 
unlimited  authority  of  a  single  person.  Ochlocracy  is 
the  rule  of  the  multitude,  for  which  we  have  tried  to 
substitute  the  hideous  compound  "mobocracy."  As 
with  the  words,  so  with  the  things  of  which  the  words 
are  the  symbol;  the  people  who  invented  the  one  had 
already  devised  the  other.  The  words  all  carry  us 
back  to  Greece,  and  all  these  various  forms  of  govern- 
ment were  well  known  to  the  Greeks  and  had  been 
analyzed  and  discussed  by  them  with  a  brilliancy,  a 
keenness,  and  an  intellectual  power  which  have  never 
been  surpassed.  If  you  will  read  The  Republic  and 
The  Laws  of  Plato,  and  supplement  that  study  by  an 
equally  careful  examination  of  what  Aristotle  has  to 


48  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

say  on  government,  you  will  find  that  those  great 
minds  have  not  only  influenced  human  thought  from 
that  time  to  this,  but  that  there  is  Httle  which  they 
left  unsaid.  It  is  the  fashion,  for  example,  to  speak 
of  socialism  as  if  it  were  something  new,  a  radiant  dis- 
covery of  our  own  time  which  is  to  wipe  away  all  tears. 
The  truth  is  that  it  is  very  old,  as  old  in  essence  as 
human  nature,  for  it  appeals  to  the  strong  desire  in 
every  man  to  get  something  for  nothing,  and  to  have 
someone  else  bear  his  burdens  and  do  his  work  for  him. 
As  a  system  it  is  amply  discussed  by  Plato,  who,  in 
The  Republic,  urges  measures  which  go  to  great  ex- 
tremes in  this  direction.  In  the  fourth  century  of 
our  era  a  faction  called  the  Circumcellions  were  active 
as  socialists  and  caused  great  trouble  within  the 
weakening  Empire  of  Rome.  The  real  difficulty  his- 
torically with  the  theories  of  socialism  is  not  that  they 
are  new,  but  that  they  are  very,  veiy  old,  and  wher- 
ever they  have  been  put  in  practical  operation  on  a 
large  scale  they  have  resulted  in  disorder,  retrogres- 
sion, and  in  the  arrest  of  civilization  and  progress. 
Broadly  stated,  there  have  been  only  two  marked  ad- 
ditions to  theories  or  principles  of  government  since 
the  days  of  the  Greeks  and  the  Romans.  One  is  the 
representative  principle  developed  by  the  people  of 
England  in  the  '^  Mother  of  Parliaments,"  and  now 
spread  all  over  the  world,  and  the  other  is  the  system 
of  federation  on  a  large  scale,  embracing  under  a 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  49 

central  government  of  defined  powers  a  union  of 
sovereign  and  self-governing  States,  which  the  world 
owes  in  its  bold  and  broad  application  to  the  men 
who  met  at  Philadelphia  to  frame  our  Constitution  in 
1787. 

With  these  exceptions  the  framers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion dealt  with  the  theories  and  systems  of  government 
which  have  been  considered,  discussed,  and  experi- 
mented with  for  more  than  two  thousand  years,  and 
which  are  to-day,  a  century  later,  the  same  as  in  1787, 
unchanged  and  with  no  additions  to  their  number. 
In  order  to  reach  the  essence  of  what  the  makers  of 
the  Constitution  tried  and  meant  to  do,  which  it  is 
most  important  to  know  and  reflect  upon  deeply  before 
we  seek  to  undo  their  work,  let  us  begin  by  dismissing 
from  our  consideration  all  that  is  unessential  or  mis- 
leading. Let  us  lay  aside  first  the  word  republic,  for 
a  republic  denotes  a  form  and  not  a  principle.  A  re- 
public may  be  democratic  like  ours,  or  an  autocracy 
like  that  of  Augustus  C2esar,  or  an  oligarchy  like 
Venice,  or  a  changing  tyranny  like  some  of  those 
visible  in  South  America.  The  word  has  become  as 
inaccurate,  scientifically  speaking,  as  the  word  mon- 
archy, which  may  be  in  reality  a  democracy  as  in  Eng- 
land or  Norway,  constitutional  as  in  Italy,  or  a  pure 
despotism  as,  until  very  lately,  in  Russia.  Let  us  adhere 
in  this  discussion  to  the  scientifically  exact  word  '^de- 
mocracy."   Next  let  us  dismiss  all  that  concerns  the  re- 


50  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

lations  of  the  States  to  the  national  government.  Fed- 
eration, as  I  have  said,  was  the  signal  contribution  of  the 
Philadelphia  convention  to  the  science  of  government. 
The  framers  of  the  Constitution,  if  they  did  not  in- 
vent the  principle,  applied  it  on  such  a  scale  and  in 
such  a  way  that  it  was  practically  a  discovery,  a  ven- 
ture both  bold  and  new,  as  masterly  as  it  was  pro- 
foundly planned.  With  the  love  of  precedents  char- 
acteristic of  their  race  they  labored  to  find  authority 
and  example  in  such  remote  and  alien  arrangements  as 
the  Achean  League  and  the  Amphictyonic  Council,  but 
the  failure  of  these  precedents  as  such  was  the  best 
evidence  of  the  novelty  and  magnitude  of  their  own 
design.  Their  work  in  this  respect  has  passed  through 
the  ordeal  of  a  great  war;  it  has  been  and  is  to-day  the 
subject  of  admiration  and  study  on  the  part  of  foreign 
nations,  and  not  even  the  most  ardent  reformer  of 
this  year  of  grace  would  think,  in  his  efforts  to  restore 
popular  government,  of  assailing  the  Union  of  sover- 
eign States.  Therefore  we  may  pass  by  this  great 
theme  which  was  the  heaviest  part  of  the  task  of  our 
ancestors. 

In  the  same  way  we  may  dismiss,  much  as  it  troubled 
the  men  of  1787,  all  that  relates  to  the  machinery  of 
government,  such  as  the  electoral  college,  the  tenure 
of  office,  the  methods  of  electing  senators  and  repre- 
sentatives, and  the  like.  These  matters  are  important; 
many  active  thinkers  in  public  life  seek  to  change 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  51 

them,  not  for  the  better,  as  I  beheve,  but  none  the  less 
these  provisions  concern  only  the  mechanism  of  gov- 
ernment; they  do  not  go  to  the  root  of  the  matter, 
they  do  not  affect  the  fundamental  principles  upon 
which  the  government  rests. 

By  making  these  omissions  we  come  now  to  the  vital 
point,  which  is,  What  kind  of  a  government  did  the 
makers  of  the  Constitution  intend  to  establish  and  how 
did  they  mean  to  have  it  work  ?  They  were,  it  must  be 
remembered,  preparing  a  scheme  of  government  for 
a  people  peculiarly  fitted  to  make  any  system  of  free 
institutions  work  well.  The  people  of  the  United 
Colonies  were  homogeneous.  They  came  in  the  main 
from  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  with  the  addition  of 
the  Dutch  in  New  York,  of  some  Germans  from  the 
Palatinate,  and  of  a  few  French  Huguenots  whose 
ability  and  character  were  as  high  as  their  numbers 
were  relatively  small.  But  an  overwhelming  ma- 
jority of  the  American  people  in  1787  were  of  English 
and  Scotch  descent  and  they,  as  well  as  the  others 
from  other  lands,  were  deeply  imbued  with  all  those 
principles  of  law  which  were  the  bulwarks  of  English 
liberty.  In  this  new  land  men  had  governed  themselves 
and  there  was  at  that  moment  no  people  on  earth  so  fit 
for  or  so  experienced  in  self-government  as  the  people 
of  the  Thirteen  Colonies.  Their  colonial  governments 
were  representative  and  in  essence  democratic.  They 
became  entirely  so  when  the  Revolution  ended  and 


52  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

the  last  English  governor  was  withdrawn.  In  the  four 
New  England  Colonies  local  government  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  town  meetings,  the  purest  democracies 
then  or  now  extant,  but  it  is  best  to  remember,  what 
the  men  of  1787  well  knew,  that  these  little  democracies 
moved  within  fixed  bounds  determined  by  the  laws  of 
the  States  under  which  they  had  their  being. 

For  such  a  people,  of  such  a  character,  with  such  a 
past  and  such  habits  and  traditions,  only  one  kind  of 
government  was  possible,  and  that  was  a  democracy. 
The  makers  of  the  Constitution  called  their  new  gov- 
ernment a  republic  and  they  were  quite  correct  in  doing 
so,  for  it  was  of  necessity  republican  in  form.  But 
they  knew  that  what  they  were  establishing  was  a 
democracy.  One  has  but  to  read  the  debates  to  see 
how  constantly  present  that  fact  was  to  their  minds. 
Democracy  was  then  a  very  new  thing  in  the  modern 
world.  As  a  system  it  had  not  been  heard  of,  except 
in  the  fevered  struggles  of  the  Italian  city  republics, 
since  the  days  of  Rome  and  Greece,  and  although  the 
convention  knew  perfectly  well  that  they  were  estab- 
lishing a  democracy  and  that  it  was  inevitable  that 
they  should  do  so,  some  of  them  regarded  it  with  fear 
and  all  with  a  deep  sense  of  responsibility  and  caution. 
The  logical  sequence  as  exhibited  in  history  and  as 
accepted  by  the  best  minds  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
struggling  to  give  to  men  a  larger  freedom,  was  de- 
mocracy —  anarchy  —  despotism.    The  makers  of  the 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  53 

Constitution  were  determined  that  so  far  as  in  them 
lay  the  American  RepubHc  should  never  take  the  second 
step,  never  revolve  through  the  vicious  circle  which 
had  culminated  in  empire  in  Rome,  in  the  tyrants  of 
the  Grecian  and  the  despots  of  the  Italian  cities  which 
in  their  turn  had  succumbed  to  the  absolutism  of  foreign 
rulers. 

The  vital  question  was  how  should  this  be  done ;  how 
should  they  establish  a  democracy  with  a  strong  gov- 
ernment —  for  after  their  experience  of  the  Confedera- 
tion they  regarded  a  weak  government  with  horror  — 
and  at  the  same  time  so  arrange  the  government  that 
it  should  be  safe  as  well  as  strong  and  free  from  the 
peril  of  lapsing  into  an  autocracy  on  the  one  hand,  or 
into  disorder  and  anarchy  on  the  other?  They  did 
not  try  to  set  any  barrier  in  the  way  of  the  popular 
will,  but  they  sought  to  put  effective  obstacles  in  the 
path  to  sudden  action  which  was  impelled  by  popular 
passion,  or  popular  whim,  or  by  the  excitement  of  the 
moment.  They  were  the  children  of  the  "Great  Re- 
bellion" and  the  '^Blessed  Revolution'^  in  the  England 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  they  were  steeped  in 
the  doctrine  of  limiting  the  power  of  the  king.  But 
here  they  were  dealing  with  a  sovereign  who  could  not 
be  limited,  for  while  a  king  can  be  restrained  by  trans- 
ferring his  power  to  the  people,  when  the  people  are 
sovereign  their  powers  cannot  be  transferred  to  any- 
body.   There  is  no  one  to  transfer  them  to,  and  if 


54  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

they  are  taken  away  the  democracy  ceases  to  exist 
and  another  government,  fundamentally  different, 
takes  its  place. 

The  makers  of  the  Constitution  not  only  knew  that 
the  will  of  the  people  must  be  supreme,  but  they  meant 
to  make  it  so.  That  which  they  also  aimed  to  do  was 
to  make  sure  that  it  was  the  real  will  of  the  people 
which  ruled  and  not  their  momentary  impulse,  their 
well-considered  desire  and  determination  and  not  the 
passion  of  the  hour,  the  child,  perhaps,  of  excitement 
and  mistake  inflamed  by  selfish  appeals  and  terrorized 
by  false  alarms.  The  main  object,  therefore,  was  to 
make  it  certain  that  there  should  be  abundant  time 
for  discussion  and  consideration,  that  the  public  mind 
should  be  thoroughly  and  well  informed,  and  that  the 
movements  of  the  machinery  of  government  should 
not  be  so  rapid  as  to  cut  off  due  deliberation.  With 
this  end  in  view  they  established  with  the  utmost 
care  a  representative  system  with  two  chambers  and 
an  executive  of  large  powers,  including  the  right  to 
veto  bills.  They  also  made  the  amendment  of  the 
Constitution  a  process  at  once  slow  and  difficult,  for 
they  intended  that  it  should  be  both,  and  indeed  that 
it  should  be  impracticable  without  a  strong,  deter- 
mined, and  lasting  public  sentiment  in  favor  of  change. 

Finally,  they  established  the  Federal  judiciary,  and 
in  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  they  made 
an  addition  to  the  science  of  government  second  only 


S<,     Hr\^<       '^"^^^^^ 


CJ>*^ 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  55 

in  importance  to  their  unequalled  work  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  principle  of  federation.    That  great  tri- 
bunal has  become  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  the  most 
remarkable   among   the   many   remarkable   solutions 
devised  by  the  convention  of  1787  for  the  settlement 
of  the  gravest  governmental  problems.    John  Marshall, 
with  the  intellect  of  the  jurist  and  the  genius  of  the 
statesman,  saw  the  possibilities  contained  in  the  words 
which  called  the  court  into  being.    By  his  intei-pre- 
tation  and  that  of  his  associates  and  their  successors 
the  Constitution  attained  to  flexibility  and  escaped 
the  rigidity  which  then  and  now  is  held  up  as  the 
danger  and  the  defect  of  a  written  instrument.    In 
their  hands  the  Constitution  has  been  expanded  to 
meet  new  conditions  and  new  problems  as  they  have 
arisen.    In  their  hands  also  the  Constitution  has  been 
the  protection  of  the  rights  of  States  and  of  the  rights 
of  men,  and  laws  which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  court, 
violated  its  principles  and  its  provisions  have  been 
declared  by  judicial  decision  in  specific  cases  to  be 
unconstitutional. 

By  making  the  three  branches  of  the  government,  i 
the  executive,  the  legislative,  and  the  judicial,  entirely  ^J 
separate  and  yet  co-ordinate,  and  by  establishing  a 
representative  system  and  creating  a  Supreme  Court 
of  extraordinary  powers,  the  framers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion believed  that  they  had  made  democracy  not  only 
all-powerful  but  at  the  same  time  safe,  and  that  they 


56  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

had  secured  it  from  gradual  conversion  into  autocracy 
on  the  one  hand  and  from  destruction  by  too  rapid 
motion  and  too  quick  response  to  the  passions  of  the 
moment  on  the  other.  If  ever  men  were  justified  by 
results  they  have  been.  The  Constitution  in  its  de- 
velopment and  throughout  our  history  has  surpassed 
the  hopes  of  its  friends  and  utterly  disappointed  the 
predictions  and  the  criticisms  of  its  foes.  Under  it 
the  United  States  has  grown  into  the  mighty  Republic 
we  see  to-day.  New  States  have  come  into  the  Union, 
vast  territories  have  been  acquired,  population  and 
wealth  have  increased  to  a  degree  which  has  amazed 
the  world,  and  life,  liberty,  and  property  have  been 
guarded  beneath  the  flag  which  is  at  once  the  symbol 
of  the  country  and  of  the  Constitution  under  which  the 
nation  has  risen  to  its  high  success.  Such  results 
would  seem  to  be  a  potent  argument  in  favor  of  the 
instrument  of  government  through  which  they  have 
been  achieved.  But  to  argue  from  results  seems  just 
now  out  of  fashion.  Actual  accomplishment,  it  would 
appear,  is  nothing.  According  to  the  new  dispensation 
our  decision  must  be  made  on  what  is  promised  for  the 
future,  not  on  what  has  been  done  in  the  past.  Under 
this  novel  doctrine,  as  I  have  observed  it,  we  are  to 
be  guided  chiefly  by  envy  and  discontent  and  are  to 
act  on  the  general  principle  that  whatever  is  is  wrong. 

What,  then,  is  the  plan  by  which  popular  govern- 
ment, which  existed  under  the  Constitution  for  more 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  57 

than  a  century  and  which  has  been  mysteriously  lost 
during  the  past  few  years,  is  to  be  restored  to  us? 
It  is  proposed,  to  put  it  in  a  few  words,  to  remove  all 
the  barriers  which  the  makers  of  the  instrument 
established  in  order  to  prevent  rash,  hasty,  and  pas- 
sionate action  and  to  secure  deliberation,  considera- 
tion, and  due  protection  for  the  rights  of  minorities 
and  of  individuals.  This  is  to  be  accompHshed  in 
two  ways:  by  emasculating  the  representative  system 
through  the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum  and 
by  breaking  down  the  courts  through  the  recall.  These 
are  the  changes  by  which  it  is  intended  to  revive 
popular  government.  Incidentally  they  strike  at  the 
very  heart  of  the  Constitution  as  the  framers  planned 
and  made  it,  for  they  will  convert  the  deliberate  move- 
ment of  the  governmental  machinery,  by  which  its 
makers  intended  to  secure  to  democracy  both  perma- 
nence and  success,  into  an  engine  w^hich  starts  at  the 
touch  of  an  electric  button,  which  is  as  quick  in  re- 
sponse as  a  hair-trigger  pistol  and  as  rapid  in  operation 
as  a  self-cocking  revolver.  These  new  and  precious 
ideas  are  of  a  ripe  age;  in  fact  they  have  passed  many 
hundreds  of  years  beyond  the  century  fixed  by  Doctor 
Johnson  for  the  establishment  of  a  literary  reputation 
at  a  point  where  it  might  be  intelligently  discussed. 
Let  us  therefore  consider  and  criticise  them. 

The    compulsory    initiative    and    the    compulsory 
referendum  need  not  detain  us  long,  for  the  effect  of 


58  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

those  devices  is  obvious  enough.  The  entire  virtue  or 
the  entire  vice  —  each  of  us  may  use  the  word  he  pre- 
fers—  of  these  schemes  rests  in  the  word  "compul- 
sory/' The  initiative  without  compulsion  is  complete 
in  the  right  of  petition  secured  by  the  first  of  the  first 
ten  amendments  to  the  Constitution,  which  really 
constituted  a  bill  of  rights.  The  right  of  petition  be- 
came the  subject  of  bitter  controversy  at  a  later  time 
and  was  vindicated  once  for  all  by  John  Quincy  Adams's 
great  battle  in  its  behalf,  more  than  three-quarters  of 
a  century  ago.  There  are  few  instances  where  petitions 
representing  a  genuine  popular  demand  have  not  met 
a  response  in  action,  whether  in  Congress  or  in  the 
State  legislatures;  still  fewer  where  respectful  attention 
and  consideration  have  not  been  accorded  to  them. 
But  the  responsibility  for  action  and  the  form  such 
action  should  take  has  rested  with  the  representative 
body.  When  the  initiative  is  made  compulsory  a 
radical  change  is  effected.  A  minority,  sometimes  a 
small  minority,  of  the  voters,  always  a  small  minority 
of  the  people,  can  compel  the  legislature  to  pass  a  law 
and  submit  it  to  the  voters  even  when  a  very  large 
majority  of  the  people  neither  ask  for  nor,  so  far  as 
the  evidence  goes,  desire  it.  In  this  way  all  respon- 
sibility is  taken  from  the  representative  body  and  they 
become  mere  clerks  for  drafting  and  recording  laws, 
poor  puppets  who  move  mechanically  when  some  ir- 
responsible outsiders  twitch  the  strings.    It  is  the  sub- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  59 

stitution  of  government  by  factions  and  fractions  for 
government  by  the  people.  The  representative  body 
as  hitherto  constituted  represented  the  whole  people. 
Under  the  new  plan  it  is  to  be  merely  the  helpless  in- 
strument of  a  minority,  perhaps  a  very  small  minority, 
of  the  voters. 

The  voluntary  referendum  has  always  existed  in  this 
country.  In  the  national  government,  owing  to  our 
dual  or  federal  form,  the  referendum  on  constitutional 
amendments  is  necessarily  made  to  the  States,  and  it 
has  never  been  suggested  for  the  laws  of  the  United 
States,  owing  to  both  physical  and  constitutional 
difficulties.  In  the  States  the  referendum  has  always 
been  freely  used,  not  only  for  constitutions  and  con- 
stitutional amendments  but  for  laws,  especially  for 
city  charters,  local  franchises,  and  the  like.  But  if 
the  referendum  is  made  compulsory,  on  the  demand 
of  a  minority  of  the  voters,  all  responsibility  vanishes 
from  the  representative  body.  The  representative  no 
longer  seeks  to  represent  the  whole  people  or  even  his 
own  constituency,  but  simply  votes  to  refer  every- 
thing to  the  voters,  and  covers  himself  completely 
by  pointing  to  the  compulsory  referendum.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  voters  are  called  upon  to  legislate. 
Of  the  mass  of  measures  submitted  they  know  and  can 
know  nothing.  Experience  shows  that  in  all  referen- 
dums  a  large  proportion  of  the  voters  decline  to  vote. 
Whether  this  is  due  to  indifference  or  to  lack  of  in- 


60  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

formation  the  result  is  the  same.  It  proves  that  this 
system  demands  from  the  voters  what  the  most  in- 
telhgent  voters  in  the  world  are  unable  to  give.  They 
are  required  to  pass  upon  laws,  many  of  which  they 
have  neither  time  nor  opportunity  to  understand,  with- 
out deliberation  and  without  any  discussion  except 
what  they  can  gather  from  the  campaign  orator,  who 
is,  as  a  rule,  interested  in  other  matters,  or  from 
an  occasional  article  in  a  newspaper.  They  cannot 
alter  or  amend.  They  must  vote  categorically  "yes'' 
or  "no."  The  majority  either  fails  to  vote,  and  the 
small  and  interested  minority  carries  its  measure,  or 
the  majority,  in  disgust,  votes  down  all  measures  sub- 
mitted, good  and  bad  alike,  because  they  do  not  un- 
derstand them  and  will  not  vote  without  knowing  what 
their  votes  mean. 

'-^he  great  laws  which,  both  in  England  and  the 
United  States,  have  been  the  landmarks  of  freedom 
and  made  ordered  liberty  possible  were  not  passed 
and  never  could  have  been  perfected  and  passed  in 
such  a  way  as  this.  This  new  plan  is  spoken  of  by  its 
advocates  as  progressive.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is 
the  reverse  of  progressive,  it  is  reactionary.  Direct 
legislation  by  popular  vote  was  familiar,  painfully 
familiar,  to  Greece  and  Rome.  In  both  it  led  through 
corruption,  violence,  and  disorder  to  autocracy  and 
despotism.  The  direct-vote  system  also  proved  itself 
utterly  incapable  of  the  government  of  an  extended 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  61 

empire  and  of  large  populations.  Where  government 
by  direct  vote  miserably  failed,  representative  gov- 
ernment, after  all  deductions  have  been  made,  has 
brilliantly  succeeded.  The  development  of  the  prin- 
ciple and  practice  of  representative  government  was, 
as  I  have  already  pointed  out,  the  one  great  contribu- 
tion of  modern  times  to  the  science  of  government. 
It  has  shown  itself  capable  of  preserving  popular  gov- 
ernment and  popular  rights  without  the  violence  and 
corruption  which  resulted  of  old  in  anarchy  and  despot- 
ism, and  at  the  same  time  it  has  proved  its  adaptability 
to  the  management  of  large  populations  and  the  effi- 
cient government  of  great  empires.  Representative 
government  was  an  enormous  advance  over  govern- 
ment by  the  direct  vote  of  the  forum,  the  agora,  or 
the  market-place,  which  had  preceded  it,  and  which 
had  gone  down  in  disaster.  It  is  now  proposed  to 
abandon  that  great  advance  and  to  return  to  the 
ancient  system  with  its  dark  record  of  disorder  and 
failure.  This  is  not  progress.  It  is  retreat  and  retro- 
gression. It  is  the  abandonment  of  a  great  advance 
and  a  return  to  that  which  is  not  only  old  and  outworn, 
but  which  history  and  experience  have  alike  dis- 
credited. 

Look  now  for  a  moment  at  representative  govern- 
ment as  we  ourselves  have  known  it.  Let  us  not  for- 
get, in  the  first  place,  that  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States  under  the  Constitution  has  been  in  continuous 


62  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

existence  for  more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty  years; 
that  with  the  single  exception  of  the  "  Mother  of  Par- 
liaments" it  is  much  the  oldest  representative  body  of 
a  constitutional  character  now  existing  in  the  world. 
Let  us  also  remember  that  the  history  of  the  Amer- 
ican Congress  is  in  large  part  the  history  of  the  United 
States,  and  that  we  are  apt  to  be  proud  of  that  history 
as  a  whole  and  of  the  many  great  things  we  as  a  people 
have  accomplished.  Yet  whatever  praise  history  ac- 
cords to  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  in  the  past 
the  Congress  of  the  moment  and  the  members  of  that 
body  in  either  branch  receive  but  little  commendation 
from  their  contemporaries.  This  is  perhaps  not  un- 
natural, and  it  certainly  has  always  been  customary. 
Legislative  bodies  have  rarely  touched  the  popular 
imagination  or  appeared  in  a  dramatic  or  picturesque 
attitude.  The  Conscript  Fathers,  facing  in  silence 
the  oncoming  barbarians  of  Gaul;  Charles  the  First, 
attempting  to  arrest  the  five  members;  the  Conti- 
nental Congress  adopting  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence; the  famous  Oath  of  the  Tennis  Court,  are 
almost  the  only  instances  which  readily  occur  to  one^s 
mind  of  representative  and  legislative  bodies  upon 
whom  for  a  brief  instant  has  rested  the  halo  of  heroism 
and  from  which  comes  a  strong  appeal  to  the  imagina- 
tion. The  men  who  fight  by  land  and  sea  rouse  im- 
mediate popular  enthusiasm,  but  a  body  of  men  en- 
gaged in  legislation  does  not  and  cannot  offer  the 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  63 

fascination  or  the  attraction  which  are  inseparable 
from  the  individual  man  who  stands  forth  alone  from 
the  crowd  in  any  great  work  of  life,  whether  of  war  or 
peace. 

We  may  accept  without  complaint  this  tendency  of 
human  nature,  but  I  think  every  dispassionate  student 
of  history,  as  well  as  every  man  who  has  had  a  share 
in  the  work  of  legislation,  may  rightfully  deprecate 
the  indiscriminate  censure  and  the  consistent  belittling 
which  pursue  legislative  bodies.    This  attitude  of  mind 
is  not  confined  to  the  United  States.     The  press  of  Eng- 
land treats  its  Parliament  severely  enough,  although, 
on  the  whole,  with  more  respect  than  is  the  case  with 
the  American  press  in  regard  to  the  American  Con- 
gress.   But  running  through  EngUsh  novels  and  es- 
says we  find,  as  a  rule,  the  same  sneer  at  the  represent- 
atives of  the  people  as  we  do  here.    Very  generally, 
both  in  this  country  and  abroad,  those  who  write  for 
the  public  seem  to  start  with  the  proposition  that  to 
be  a  member  of  Congress,  or  a  member  of  Parliament, 
or  a  member  of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in  France, 
implies  some  necessary  inferiority  of  mmd  or  char- 
acter.   I  do  not  desire  to  be  rash  or  violent,  but  I 
think  this  theory  deserves  a  moment's  examination 
and  is,  perhaps,  open  to  some  doubt.    As  Mr.  Reed, 
when  Speaker  of  the  House,  once  said,  it  is  a  fair 
inference  that  a  man  who  can  impress  himself  upon 
two  hundred  thousand  people,   or  upon   the  whole 


64  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

population  of  a  great  State,  sufficiently  to  induce 
them  to  send  him  to  the  House  or  Senate  has 
something  more  than  ordinary  qualities  and  some- 
thing more  than  ordinary  force.  Then,  again,  as  Ed- 
mund Burke  remarked,  you  cannot  draw  an  indict- 
ment against  a  whole  people,  nor,  I  may  add,  can  you 
draw  an  indictment  against  an  entire  class.  There 
are  good  men  and  bad  men  in  business  and  in  the  pro- 
fessions, in  the  ministry,  in  medicine,  in  law,  and 
among  scholars.  Virtue  is  not  determined  by  occupa- 
tion. There  are,  I  repeat,  good  and  bad  men  in  every 
profession  and  calling,  among  high  and  low,  rich  and 
poor,  and  the  honest  men  who  mean  to  do  right  largely 
preponderate,  for  if  they  did  not  the  whole  social 
structure  would  come  crashing  to  the  ground.  What 
is  true  of  business  and  the  professions  is  true  of  Con- 
gress. There  are  good  and  bad  men  in  public  life, 
and  the  proportion  of  good  to  bad,  I  believe,  compares 
favorably  with  that  of  any  other  occupation.  Public 
men  live  in  the  fierce  light  which  beats  upon  them  as 
upon  the  throne,  a  light  never  fiercer  or  more  pitiless 
than  now,  and  for  this  reason  their  shortcomings  are 
made  more  glaring  and  their  virtues  by  contrast  more 
shadowed  than  in  private  life.  This  is  as  it  should  be, 
for  the  man  who  does  wrong  in  private  life  is  far  less 
harmful  than  the  public  servant  who  is  false  to  his 
trust.  To  inflict  upon  the  public  servant  who  is  a 
wrong-doer  the  severest  reprobation  is  necessaiy  for 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  65 

the  protection  of  the  community,  but  for  this  very- 
reason  we  should  be  extremely  careful  that  no  reproba- 
tion should  be  visited  unjustly  upon  any  public  man. 
It  is  an  evil  thing  to  betray  the  public  trust,  but  it  is 
an  equally  evil  thing  to  pour  wholesale  condemnation 
upon  the  head  of  eveiy  man  in  public  life,  good  and 
bad  alike.  That  which  suffers  most  from  an  injustice 
like  this  in  the  long  run  is  not  the  pubHc  servant  who 
has  been  unfairly  dealt  with,  for  the  individual  passes 
quickly,  but  the  country  itself.  After  all,  the  voters 
make  the  representative.  If  he  is  not  of  the  highest 
type,  he  appears  to  be  that  which  the  majority  prefers. 
Wholesale  criticism  and  abuse  of  the  representatives 
reflect  more  on  the  constituencies,  if  we  stop  to  con- 
sider, than  on  those  whom  the  constituencies  select 
to  represent  them.  Indiscriminate  condemnation  and 
equally  indiscriminate  belittling  of  the  men  who  make 
and  execute  our  laws,  whether  in  State  or  nation,  is 
not  only  a  reflection  upon  the  American  people  but  is 
a  blow  to  the  United  States  and  every  State  in  it. 
They  help  the  guilty  to  escape  and  injure  the  honest 
and  the  innocent.  They  destroy  the  people^s  confi- 
dence in  their  own  government  and  lower  the  country 
in  the  eyes  of  foreign  nations. 

The  Congress  of  the  United  States  embodies  the  rep- 
resentative principle.  The  principle  of  representa- 
tion, I  repeat,  has  been  the  great  contribution  of  the 
English-speaking  race  to  the  science  and  practice  of 


66  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

government.  The  Greeks  and  the  RomanS;  let  me 
say  once  more,  had  pure  democracy  and  legislation  by 
direct  vote  in  theory,  at  least,  and  we  have  but  to  read 
Plato's  Republic  and  The  Laws  to  learn  the  defects 
of  the  system  in  use  in  Athens.  Greece  failed  to  es- 
tablish an  empire;  she  touched  the  highest  peaks  of 
civilization,  and  finally  went  to  pieces  politically  be- 
neath the  onset  of  Rome.  Rome  established  a  great 
empire,  but,  after  years  of  bloody  struggles  between 
aristocracy  and  democracy,  it  ended  in  a  simple  des- 
potism. The  free  cities  of  Italy  oscillated  between 
anarchy  and  tyranny,  only  to  fall  victims  in  the  end 
to  foreign  masters.  In  Florence  they  had  elections 
every  three  months  and  a  complication  of  committees 
and  councils  to  interpret  the  popular  will.  Yet  the 
result  was  the  Medicis  and  the  Hapsburgs. 

It  is  also  to  be  remembered  that  the  representative 
principle  has  been  coincident  with  political  liberty. 
Whatever  its  shortcomings  or  defects,  and,  like  all 
things  human,  it  has  its  grave  defects,  it  none  the  less 
remains  true  that  the  first  care  of  every  "strong  man,'' 
every  "saviour  of  society,"  eveiy  "man  on  horseback," 
of  every  autocrat,  is  either  to  paralyze  or  to  destroy 
the  representative  principle.  It  may  be  that  the  rep- 
resentative principle  is  not  the  cause  of  political  liberty, 
but  there  can  be  no  question  whatever  that  the  two 
have  always  gone  hand  in  hand,  and  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  one  has  been  the  signal  for  the  downfall  of  the 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  67 

other.  The  Congress  of  the  United  States  and  the 
legislatures  of  the  several  States  embody  the  repre- 
sentative principle.  By  that  principle  your  laws  have 
been  made  and  the  republican  form  of  government 
sustained  for  more  than  a  century.  Whatever  its 
shortcomings,  it  has  maintained  the  government  of 
the  United  States  and  upheld  law  and  order  through- 
out our  borders. 

The  framers  of  our  government  separated  the  exec- 
utive from  the  legislative  branch.  They  deemed  both 
essential  to  freedom.  The  constitution  of  my  State  of 
Massachusetts  declares  that  the  government  it  estab- 
lishes is  to  be  a  government  of  laws  and  not  of  men; 
a  noble  principle  and  one  worthy  of  fresh  remembrance. 
With  such  a  history,  and  typifying  as  it  does  the  great 
doctrines  which  were  embodied  in  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
and  the  institutions  of  England,  it  may  fairly  be  asked 
that  if  the  representative  principle  must  be  criticised, 
as  it  should  be,  with  severity  when  it  errs,  it  should  also 
be  treated  with  that  absolute  justice  which  is  not  only 
right  in  the  abstract  but  which  is  essential  to  the 
maintenance  of  law,  order,  and  free  government,  to 
human  progress  and  to  the  protection  of  the  weak, 
even  as  the  fathers  designed  that  it  should  be.  Wlien 
we  blame  its  failures  let  us  not  forget  its  services. 
They  have  broadened  freedom  down  from  precedent  to 
precedent.    They  shine  across  those  pages  of  history 


68  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

which  tell  the  great  story  of  the  advance  of  liberty  and 
of  the  ever-widening  humanity  which  seeks  to  make 
the  world  better  and  happier  for  those  who  most  need 
happiness  and  well-being.  In  beneficent  results  for 
the  people  at  large  no  other  form  of  government  ever 
attempted  can  compare  with  it  for  a  moment. 

The  worst  feature  of  the  compulsory  initiative  and 
referendum  lies  therefore  in  the  destruction  of  the 
principle  of  representation.  Power  without  responsi- 
bility is  a  menace  to  freedom  and  good  government. 
ResponsibiHty  without  power  is  inconceivable,  for  no 
man  in  his  senses  would  bear  such  a  burden.  But 
when  responsibility  and  power  are  both  taken  away, 
whether  from  the  executive  or  the  representatives, 
the  result  is  simple  inanition.  No  man  fit  by  ability 
and  character  to  be  a  representative  would  accept  the 
office  under  such  humiliating  conditions.  Those  who 
accepted  it  would  do  so  for  the  pecuniary  reward  which 
the  office  carried  and  would  sink  rapidly  into  mere 
machines  of  record,  neither  knowing  nor  caring  what 
they  did.  With  a  representative  body  thus  reduced 
to  nothingness  we  are  left  with  the  people,  armed  only 
with  their  votes,  and  with  an  executive  who  has  neces- 
sarily absorbed  all  the  real  powers  of  the  State.  This 
situation  is  an  old  story  and  has  always  ended  in  the 
same  way.  It  presents  one  of  those  rare  cases  in  which 
the  teaching  of  history  is  uniform.  When  the  repre- 
sentative principle  has  departed  and  only  its  ghost 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  69 

remains  to  haunt  the  capitol,  Hberty  has  not  hngered 
long  beside  its  grave.  The  rise  of  the  representative 
principle  and  its  spread  to  new  lands  to-day  marks  the 
rise  of  popular  government  everywhere.  Wherever  it 
has  been  betrayed  or  cast  down  the  government  has 
reverted  to  despotism.  When  representative  govern- 
ment has  perished  freedom  has  not  long  survived. 

Most  serious,  most  fatal  indeed  are  the  dangers 
threatened  by  the  insidious  and  revolutionary  changes 
which  it  is  proposed  to  make  in  our  representative 
system,  upon  which  the  makers  of  the  Constitution 
relied  as  one  of  the  great  buttresses  of  the  political 
fabric  which  was  to  insure  to  popular  government 
success  and  stability.  Yet  even  these  changes  are 
less  ruinous  to  the  body  politic,  to  liberty  and  order, 
than  that  which  proposes  to  subject  judges  to  the  recall. 
No  graver  question  than  this  has  ever  confronted  the 
American  people. 

The  men  who  framed  the  Constitution  were  much 
nearer  to  the  time  when  there  was  no  such  thing  as  an 
independent  judiciary  than  we  are  now.  The  bad  old 
days,  when  judges  did  the  bidding  of  the  king,  were 
much  more  vivid  to  them  than  to  us.  What  is  a  com- 
monplace to  us  was  to  them  a  comparatively  recent 
and  a  hardly  won  triumph.  The  fathers  of  some  of 
those  men  — the  grandfathers  of  all  — could  recall 
Jeffreys  and  the  "Bloody  Assize."  They  knew  well 
that  there  could  be  no  real  freedom,  no  security  for 


70  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

personal  liberty,  no  justice,  without  independent 
judges.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  they  established 
the  judiciary  of  the  United  States  with  a  tenure  which 
was  to  last  during  good  behavior  and  made  them  ir- 
removable except  by  impeachment.  The  Supreme 
Court  then  created  and  the  judiciary  which  followed 
have,  as  I  have  already  said,  excited  the  admiration 
of  the  civilized  world.  The  makers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion believed  that  there  should  be  no  power  capable 
of  deflecting  a  judge  from  the  declaration  of  his  honest 
belief,  no  threat  of  personal  loss,  no  promise  of  future 
emolument,  which  could  be  held  over  him  in  order  to 
sway  his  opinion.  This  conviction  was  ingrained  and 
born  with  them,  as  natural  to  them  as  the  air  tliey 
breathed,  as  vital  as  their  personal  honor.  How  could 
it  have  been  otherwise?  The  independence  of  the 
judiciary  is  one  of  the  great  landmarks  in  the  long 
struggle  which  resulted  in  the  political  and  personal 
freedom  of  the  English-speaking  people.  The  battle 
was  fought  out  on  English  soil.  If  you  will  turn  to 
the  closing  scenes  of  Henry  IV,  you  will  find  there  one 
of  the  noblest  conceptions  of  the  judicial  office  in  the 
olden  time  ever  expressed  in  literature.  It  was  written 
in  the  days  of  the  last  Tudor  or  of  the  first  Stuart,  in 
the  time  of  the  Star  Chamber,  of  judges  who  decided 
at  the  pleasure  of  the  king,  and  when  Francis  Bacon, 
Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  took  bribes  or  gifts.  Yet 
lofty  as  is  the  conception,  you  will  see  that  Shake- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  71 

speare  regarded  the  judges  as  embodying  the  person, 
the  wdll,  and  the  authority  of  the  king. 

We  all  know  how  the  first  two  Stuarts  used  the 
courts  to  punish  their  enemies  and  to  prevent  the  as- 
sertion of  political  rights,  which  are  now  such  common- 
places that  the  fact  that  they  were  ever  questioned  is 
forgotten.  The  tyranny  of  the  courts  was  one  of  the 
chief  causes  which  led  to  the  great  rebellion,  and  out 
of  that  great  rebellion,  when  the  third  Stuart  had  been 
restored,  came  the  habeas  corpus  act,  which  has  done 
more  to  protect  personal  liberty  than  any  act  ever 
passed.  But  the  second  Charles  and  the  second 
James  had  learned  nothing  as  to  the  judges.  They 
expected  them  to  do  their  bidding  when  the  king  had 
any  interest  at  stake,  and  under  the  last  Stuart  the 
courts  reached  a  very  low  point  and  the  legal  history 
of  the  time  is  characterized  by  the  evil  name  of  Jef- 
freys. When  the  lawyers  went  to  pay  their  homage 
to  William  of  Orange,  they  were  headed  by  Sergeant 
Maynard,  then  ninety  years  of  age.  "Mr.  Sergeant,^' 
said  the  prince,  "you  must  have  survived  all  the 
lawyers  of  your  standing.''  "Yes,  sir,"  said  the  old 
man,  "and,  but  for  Your  Highness,  I  should  have  sur- 
vived the  laws  too."  The  condition  of  the  courts  was 
indeed  one  of  the  strongest  of  the  many  bitter  griev- 
ances which  wrought  the  Revolution  that  placed 
William  of  Orange  on  the  English  throne.  In  the 
famous  bill  of  rights  there  is  no  provision  in  regard  to 


72  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

the  courts  and  it  is  not  quite  clear  why  it  was  omitted, 
although,  apparently,  it  was  due  to  an  oversight.  In 
any  event  it  was  not  forgotten.  It  was  brought  for- 
ward more  than  once  in  Parliament,  but  William  an- 
nounced that  he  would  not  assent  to  any  act  making 
the  judges  independent  of  the  crown.  As  his  reign 
drew  toward  its  close,  however,  he  signified  that  al- 
though he  would  veto  a  separate  act  he  would  accept 
the  independence  of  the  judiciary  if  provided  for  in 
the  act  of  settlement  which  was  to  determine  the  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  England.  Therefore  we  find 
in  the  act  of  settlement  the  clause  which  declares  that 
the  judges  shall  hold  office  during  good  behavior  — 
"quamdiu  se  bene  gesserint"  —  and  shall  be  remov- 
able only  on  the  request  of  both  houses  of  Parhament. 
It  is  necessary  to  pause  a  moment  here  and  consider 
briefly  the  provision  of  the  act  of  settlement  for  the 
removal  of  judges  on  an  address  by  the  houses,  because 
it  has  been  most  incorrectly  used  by  persons  ignorant 
probably  of  its  history  as  a  precedent  justifying  the 
recall.  The  clause  was  inserted  not  for  the  purpose 
of  controlling  the  judges,  but  to  protect  them  still 
further  against  the  power  of  the  crown  by  which  they 
had  hitherto  been  dominated.  The  history  of  the 
clause  since  its  enactment  demonstrates  what  its  pur- 
pose was  as  well  as  the  fulfilment  of  that  purpose  in 
practice.  During  the  two  centuries  which  have  elapsed 
since  William  III  gave  his  assent  to  the  act,  there  has 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  73 

been,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  only  one  removal  on  ad- 
dress, that  of  Sir  Jonah  Barrington,  an  Irish  judge, 
in  1806,  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago.  There  have 
been  several  cases  where  removal  was  petitioned  for, 
but  Harrington's  was,  I  think,  the  only  one  in  which 
the  demand  was  successful.  The  procedure  employed 
shows  that  there  is  no  resemblance  whatever  between 
the  removal  of  a  judge  upon  the  address  of  the  law- 
making body  and  the  popular  recall.  They  are  utterly 
different,  are  instituted  for  different  purposes,  and  the 
former  furnishes  in  reality  a  strong  argument  against 
the  latter.  In  all  the  cases  of  removal  or  attempted 
removal  by  address  of  Parliament  the  accused  judge 
was  carefully  tried  before  a  special  committee  of 
each  house;  he  could  be  heard  at  the  bar  of  either 
house,  he  could  and  did  employ  counsel,  and  could 
summon  and  cross-examine  witnesses.  This  process 
is  as  far  removed  from  the  recall  as  the  zenith  from  the 
nadir,  for  under  the  recall  by  the  voters  the  accused 
judge  has  no  opportunity  to  summon  or  cross-examine 
witnesses,  to  appear  by  counsel,  or  to  be  properly  heard 
and  tried.  He  is  obHged  under  the  system  of  the  pop- 
ular recall  to  make  an  appeal  by  the  usual  political 
methods  and  at  the  same  time  to  withstand  another 
candidate,  while  he  is  forced  to  seek  a  hearing  from 
audiences  ignorant  of  the  law  and  inflamed  perhaps 
against  him  by  passion  and  prejudice.  He  has  no 
chance  whatever  of  a  fair  trial. 


74  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

Some  of  our  States  borrowed  this  provision  of  the 
act  of  settlement  when  they  formed  their  constitu- 
tions. My  own  State  of  Massachusetts  was  one  of 
them.  The  power  has  been  but  rarely  exercised  by 
the  legislature  in  the  hundred  and  thirty  years  which 
have  passed  since  our  constitution  was  adopted,  but 
it  so  happened  that  when  I  was  in  the  legislature  a 
case  occurred,  and  I  was  a  member  of  the  committee 
on  the  judiciary  to  whom  the  petitions  were  referred. 
The  accused  judge  was  tried  as  elaborately  and  fairly 
as  he  could  have  been  by  any  court  or  by  the  Senate 
if  he  had  been  impeached.  He  had  counsel,  he  sum- 
moned and  cross-examined  witnesses,  and  the  trial, 
for  it  was  nothing  less,  occupied  weeks.  The  House 
adopted  the  address  but  it  was  defeated  in  the  Senate. 
A  year  later,  after  a  similar  trial,  the  address  passed 
both  houses  and  the  judge  was  removed  by  the  governor 
for  misdemeanors  and  malfeasance  in  office.  A  mere 
statement  of  the  procedure  shows  at  once  that  the 
removal  by  address  is  simply  a  summary  form  of  im- 
peachment with  no  relation  or  likeness  to  the  recall. 
Removal  by  address  is  no  more  like  the  recall  than  im- 
peachment is.  If  successful,  they  all  result  in  the  re- 
tirement of  the  judge  accused,  but  there  the  resemblance 
ends.  The  makers  of  the  Constitution  did  not  follow 
the  act  of  settlement  and  adopt  the  removal  on  ad- 
dress. They  no  doubt  perceived  its  advantages, 
because  it  made  possible  the  removal  of  a  judge  in- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  75 

capacitated  by  insanity,  or  age,  or  disease  without  in- 
flicting upon  him  the  stigma  of  an  impeachment,  but 
they  also  saw  that  the  removal  by  address  might  be 
used  for  political  and  personal  reasons,  of  which  one 
instance  occurred  in  my  own  State,  and  they  probably 
determined  that  the  risk  of  its  abuse  outweighed  any 
possible  benefit  which  might  flow  from  its  judicious 
exercise. 

They  placed  their  courts  as  far  as  they  could  on  the 
great  heights  of  justice,  above  the  gusts  of  popular 
passion.  They  guarded  them  in  every  possible  way. 
They  knew  that  judges  were  human  and  therefore 
fallible.  They  knew  that  the  courts  would  move  more 
slowly  than  popular  opinion  or  than  Congress,  but  they 
felt  equally  sure  that  they  would  in  the  end  follow 
that  public  opinion  which  was  at  once  settled  and  well 
considered.  All  this  they  did  because  all  history  and 
especially  the  history  and  tradition  of  their  own  race 
taught  them  that  the  strongest  bulwark  of  individual 
freedom  and  of  human  rights  was  to  be  found  ulti- 
mately in  an  independent  court,  the  corner-stone  of  all 
liberty.  Their  ancestors  had  saved  the  judges  from 
the  crown.  They  would  not  retrace  their  steps  and 
make  them  subject  to  the  anger  or  the  whim  of  any 
one  else. 

"  They  wished  men  to  be  free, 
As  much  from  mobs  as  kings,  from  you  as  me." 


76  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

The  problem  which  they  then  solved  has  in  no  wise 
changed.  The  independence  of  the  judiciary  is  as 
vital  to  free  institutions  now  as  then.  The  system 
which  our  forefathers  adopted  has  worked  admirably 
and  has  commanded  the  applause  of  their  children 
and  of  foreign  nations,  who  Bacon  tells  us  are  a  present 
posterity.  Now  it  is  proposed  to  tear  this  all  down 
and  to  replace  the  decisions  of  the  court  with  the 
judgment  of  the  market-place.  If  I  may  borrow  a 
phrase  from  the  brilliant  speech  made  recently  by  Mr. 
Littleton  in  the  House,  it  is  intended  to  substitute 
"government  by  tumult  for  government  by  law." 

Those  who  advocate  this  revolution  in  our  system 
of  government  seem  to  think  that  a  judge  should  be 
made  responsive  to  the  popular  will,  to  the  fleeting 
majority  of  one  day  which  may  be  a  minority  the  next. 
They  would  make  their  judges  servile,  and  servile 
judges  are  a  menace  to  freedom,  no  matter  to  whom 
their  servitude  is  due.  They  talk  of  a  judge's  duty  to 
his  constituents.  A  judge  on  the  bench  has  no  con- 
stituents and  represents  no  one.  He  is  there  to  ad- 
minister justice.  He  is  there  not  to  make  laws,  but 
to  decide  what  the  law  is.  He  must  know  neither 
friend  nor  foe.  He  is  there  to  declare  the  law  and 
to  do  justice  between  man  and  man. 

The  advocates  of  the  recall  seem  to  believe  that  with 
subser\dent  judges  glancing  timidly  to  right  and  left 
to  learn  what  voters  think,  instead  of  looking  stead- 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  77 

fastly  at  the  tables  of  the  law,  the  poor  will  profit  and 
the  rich  will  suffer;  that  the  individual  will  win  and  the 
corporation  lose;  that  the  powerful  will  be  crushed 
and  the  weak  will  triumph,  while  the  sword  of  the  re- 
call hangs  over  the  head  of  the  judicial  Damocles.  If 
even  this  were  true,  nothing  could  be  more  fatal.  A 
judge  must  know  neither  rich  nor  poor,  neither  strong 
nor  weak.  He  must  know  only  law  and  justice.  He 
must  never  listen  to  Bassanio's  appeal,  ^' To  do  a  great 
right,  do  a  little  wrong.''  But  the  theory  is  in  reality 
most  lamentably  false.  No  man  fit  to  be  a  judge  would, 
with  few  exceptions,  take  office  under  the  recall.  In 
the  end  the  bench  would  be  filled  by  the  weak  and  the 
unscrupulous.  The  weak  would  make  decisions  to 
curry  favor  and  hold  votes.  The  unscrupulous  would 
use  their  brief  opportunity  to  assure  their  own  for- 
tunes, and  that  assurance  could  come  only  from  the 
rich  and  the  powerful,  who  would  thus  control  the  de- 
cisions.^ For  the  American  court  we  should  substitute 
the  oriental  cadi,  with  the  bribe-giver  whispering  in 
his  ear.  If  a  criminal  happened  to  belong  to  some 
large  and  powerful  organization  in  whose  interest  the 
crime  was  committed  he  would  have  little  to  fear  from 
a  court  where  a  judge  subject  to  the  recall  presided. 
We  should  have  courts  like  those  ruled  by  the  Camorra 
in  the  days  of  the  Neapolitan  Bourbons  except  that  the 
subservience  of  the  judge  would  be  insured  by  fear  of 
the  recall  instead  of  by  dread  of  assassination.    The 


78  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

result  would  be  the  same  and  certain  criminals  would 
become  a  privileged  class  and  commit  their  crimes  with 
impunity. 

In  one  of  the  noblest  passages  of  his  letter  to  the 
sheriffs  of  Bristol  Edmund  Burke  says: 

The  poorest  being  that  crawls  on  earth  contending  to  save 
itself  from  injustice  and  oppression  is  an  object  respectable  in 
the  eyes  of  God  and  man. 

Without  the  independent  judge  those  words  could 
never  have  been  written,  for  before  the  independent 
judge  alone  could  the  poorest  hope  to  contend  against 
injustice.  Judges,  of  course,  are  human  and  therefore 
err.  I  know  well  that  there  have  been  one  or  two  great 
cases  where  the  decision  of  the  highest  court  traveUing 
beyond  its  province  has  been  reversed  and  swept  away 
by  the  overwhelming  force  of  public  opinion  and  the 
irresistible  current  of  events.  I  know  only  too  well 
that  we  suffer  from  the  abuse  of  technicalities,  from 
delays  which  are  often  a  denial  of  justice,  and  that 
the  methods  of  our  criminal  law  are  in  many  States 
a  disgrace  to  civilization.  But  all  these  delays  and 
abuses  and  miscarriages  of  justice  are  within  the  reach 
of  Congress  and  legislatures,  and  these  evils  can  be 
remedied  by  statute  whenever  public  opinion  demands 
a  reform.  Their  continued  existence  is  our  own  fault. 
Yet  when  all  is  said  the  errors  of  the  highest  courts  are 
few  and  the  abuses  and  shortcomings  to  which  I  have 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  79 

referred  can  be  cured  by  our  own  action.  In  the  great 
mass  of  business,  in  the  hundreds  of  trials  which  go  on 
day  by  day  and  year  by  year,  justice  is  done  and  the 
rights  of  all  protected.  We  may  declare  with  truth 
that  in  the  courts,  as  we  have  known  them,  the.  poor, 
the  weak,  the  helpless  have  found  protection  and 
sometimes  their  only  defence.  A  mob  might  thunder 
at  the  gates,  money  might  exert  its  utmost  power, 
but  there  in  the  courtroom  the  judge  could  see  only 
the  law  and  justice.  The  safeguard  of  the  rights  and 
liberties  of  minorities  and  individuals,  of  the  weak, 
and  above  all  of  the  unpopular,  as  a  rule,  has  been 
found  only  in  the  court.  And  now  it  is  proposed  to 
undo  all  this  and  to  make  the  judges  immediately  de- 
pendent on  the  will  of  those  upon  whom  they  must 
pass  judgment.  If  the  framers  of  the  Constitution 
were  alive  to-day,  they  would  not  find  a  single  new 
condition  to  affect  their  faith  in  an  independent  judici- 
ary. They  would  decide  now  as  they  decided  then. 
Are  we  ready  to  reverse  their  judgment  and  open  the 
door  to  the  flood  of  evils  which  will  rush  into  the  State 
as  they  always  have  rushed  in  when  in  times  past  the 
courts  were  controlled  by  an  outside  power? 

The  destruction  of  an  independent  judiciary  carries 
with  it  everything  else,  but  it  only  illustrates  sharply 
the  general  theory  pursued  by  the  makers  of  the  Con- 
stitution. They  established  a  democracy,  and  they 
believed  that  a  democracy  would  be  successful;  but 


80  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

they  also  believed  that  it  could  succeed  solely  through 
forms  and  methods  which  would  not  make  it  impos- 
sible for  the  people  to  carry  on  their  own  government.' 
For  this  reason  it  was  that  they  provided  against 
hasty  action,  guarded  against  passion  and  excite- 
ment, gave  ample  room  for  the  cooler  second  thought, 
and  arranged  that  the  popular  will  should  be  expressed 
through  representative  and  deliberative  assemblies  and 
the  laws  admini^.tered  and  interpreted  through  inde- 
pendent courts.  Those  who  would  destroy  their  work 
talk  continually  about  trusting  the  people  and  obeying 
the  people's  will.  But  this  is  not  what  they  seek. 
The  statement,  as  they  make  it,  is  utterly  misleading. 
That  for  which  they  really  strive  is  to  make  the  courts 
and  the  Congress  suddenly  and  rapidly  responsive  to 
the  will  of  a  majority  of  the  voters.  It  matters  not 
that  it  may  be  a  narrow,  an  ephemeral,  or  a  fluctuat- 
ing majority.  To  that  temporary  majority,  which 
the  next  year  may  be  changed  to  a  minority,  the  Con- 
gress and  the  courts  must  at  once  respond.  Legisla- 
tion of  the  most  radical,  the  most  revolutionary  char- 
acter may  thus  be  forced  upon  the  country,  not  only 
without  popular  assent  but  against  the  will  of  the  great 
mass  of  the  people. 

The  framers  of  the  Constitution  made  it  in  the  name 
and  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  of  the  United  States; 
for  the  entire  people,  not  for  any  fraction  or  class  of 
the  people.    They  did  not  make  the  Constitution  for 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  81 

the  voters  of  the  United  States.  They  recognized  that 
the  popular  will  could  only  be  expressed  by  those  who 
voted  and  that  the  expression  of  the  majority  must  in 
the  end  be  final.  But  they  restrained  and  made  de- 
liberate the  action  of  the  voters  by  the  limitations 
placed  upon  the  legislative,  the  executive,  and  the 
judicial  branches,  so  that  the  rights  of  all  the  people 
might  be  guarded  and  protected  against  ill-considered 
action  on  the  part  of  those  who  vote.  Those  who 
now  seek  to  alter  the  fundamental  principles  of  the 
Constitution  start  with  a  confusion  of  terms  and  a 
false  proposition.  They  talk  glibly  of  ^Hhe  people.'' 
But  they  mean  the  voters,  and  the  voters  are  not  the 
people,  but  a  small  portion  of  the  people,  not  more 
than  a  fifth  or  a  sixth  part,  who  are  endowed  by  law 
with  the  power  to  express  what  is  to  be  regarded  as  the 
popular  will.  The  legal  voters  are  the  representatives 
and  trustees  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  country,  of 
all  those  under  twenty-one  to  whom  the  future  belongs, 
of  nearly  all  the  women,  of  all  resident  aliens,  and  of 
all  persons  not  qualified  to  vote.  They  are  the  instru- 
ment, the  only  practicable  instrument,  for  reaching  an 
expression  of  the  popular  will;  but  they  are  not  the 
people  as  a  whole,  for  whom  and  for  whose  protection 
the  Constitution  was  made.  It  was  for  the  protection 
of  the  people  that  the  m.akers  of  the  Constitution  made 
provisions  to  assure  deliberate  movement  and  to  pre-^ 
vent  hasty,  passionate,  or  ill-considered  action.    The 


82  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

puipose  of  those  who  would  destroy  the  present  Con- 
stitution is  to  remove  these  safeguards  and  for  the 
"people'^    of    the    Constitution    substitute,    without 
check,  hindrance,  or  delay,  the  will  of  the  voters  of  the 
moment.    They  are  blind  to  the  awful  peril  of  turning 
human  nature  loose  to  riot  among  first  principles. 
I    But  they  do  not  stop  even  there.    Under  the  system 
/they  propose  a  small  minority  of  the  voters,  who  are 
l'*^  themselves  a  minority  of  the  people,  are  to  have  un- 
limited power  to  compel  the  passage  of  laws.    A  small 
minority  will  be  able  and,  as  the  experience  of  the 
voluntary  referendum  shows,   will  in   almost  eveiy 
instance  contrive  to  place  laws  upon  the  statute-book 
which  the  mass  of  the  people  really  do  not  desire. 
A  small  minority  can  force  the  recall  of  a  judge  and 
drive  him  from  the  bench.    The  new  system  places 
the  actual  power  in  the  hands  of  minorities,  generally 
small,  always  interested  and  determined.    Instead  of 
government  '^by  the  people  and  for  the  people'^  we 
shall  have  government  by  factions,  with  all  the  turbu- 
lence, disorder,  and  uncertainty  that  the  rule  of  fac- 
tions ever  implies.    Such  a  system  is  a  travesty  of 
popular  government  and  the  antipodes  of  true  democ- 
racy.   Under  the  same  conditions  of  human  nature, 
with  no  element  of  decision  lacking  then  that  we  have 
now,  the  framers  of  the  Constitution  established  the 
system  under  which  we  have  flourished  and  rejected 
that  which  it  is  now  proposed  to  set  up  and  which  all 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  83 

experience  has  shown  to  be  a  failure.  Their  system 
embodied  in  the  Constitution  has  proved  its  efficacy. 
It  has  worked  well  and  it  has  been  an  extraordinary 
success.  The  other,  burdened  with  the  failures  of 
centuries,  has  always  trodden  the  same  path  which 
revolves  in  the  well-worn  vicious  circle  from  democracy 
to  anarchy,  from  anarchy  to  despotism,  and  then  by 
slow  and  painful  steps  back  to  the  high  levels  of  an 
intelligent  freedom  and  an  ordered  liberty.  Our  an- 
cestors sought  to  make  it  as  impossible  as  human  in- 
genuity could  devise  to  drag  democracy  down  by  the 
pretence  of  giving  it  a  larger  scope.  We  are  asked  to 
retrace  our  steps,  adopt  what  they  rejected,  take  up 
that  which  has  failed,  cast  down  that  which  has  tri- 
umphed, and  for  government  by  the  people  substitute 
the  rule  of  factions  led  by  the  eternal  and  unwearied 
champions  who  in  the  name  of  the  people  seek  the  pro- 
motion which  they  lack. 

Such  are  the  questions  which  confront  us  to-day, 
amazing  in  their  existence  under  a  Constitution  with 
such  a  history  as  ours.  The  evils  which  it  is  sought 
to  remedy  are  all,  so  far  as  they  actually  exist,  curable 
by  law.  No  doubt  evils  exist;  no  doubt  advance, 
reform,  progress,  improvements  are  always  needed  as 
conditions  change,  but  they  can  all  be  attained  by  law. 
There  is  no  need  to  destroy  the  Constitution,  to  wreck 
the  fundamental  principles  of  democracy  and  of  the  Bill 
of  Rights  embodied  in  the  first  ten  amendments,  in 


84  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  IVIAKERS 

order  to  attain  to  an  amelioration  of  conditions  and  to 
a  wider  and  more  beneficent  social  state  when  statutes 
can  effect  all  and  more  than  is  demanded.  It  is  not 
necessary  to  scuttle  a  noble  ship  in  order  to  rid  her  of 
rats;  it  is  not  imperative  to  burn  the  strong,  well- 
timbered  house  which  has  sheltered  successive  genera- 
tions because  there  is  a  leak  in  the  roof;  it  is  only  a 
madman  who  would  hurl  down  in  blackened  ruin  a 
noble  palace,  the  work  and  care  of  centuries,  because 
a  stain  easily  erased  may  now  and  then  be  detected 
upon  the  shining  whiteness  of  its  marble  walls. 

All  these  questions,  all  these  reforms  and  revolutions 
so  gloriously  portrayed  to  us,  it  cannot  be  said  too  often, 
are  very  old.  Their  weakness  is  not  that  they  are  new 
but  that  they  are  timeworn  and  outworn.  The  voices 
which  are  now  crying  so  shrilly  that  we  must  destroy 
our  Constitution  and  abandon  all  our  principles  of 
government  have  been  heard  — 

"  In  ancient  days  by  Emperor  and  clown." 

They  are  as  old  as  human  discontent  and  human 
impatience  and  are  as  ancient  as  the  flattery  which 
has  followed  sovereign  authority  from  the  days  of  the 
Pharaohs  to  our  own. 

There  is  a  familiar  story,  which  we  all  heard  as  chil- 
dren, of  the  courtiers  of  Knut,  King  of  England,  a 
mighty  warrior  and  a  wise  man,  not  destitute  evidently 
of  humor.    These  courtiers  told  the  King  that  the 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  85 

tide  would  not  dare  to  come  in  against  his  command 
and  wet  his  feet.    So  he  bade  them  place  his  chair 
near  the  edge  of  the  sea  and  the  main  came  silent, 
flooding  in  about  him,   and  you  all  remember  the 
lesson  which  the  King  read  to  his  flatterers.     Many 
kings  have  come  and  gone  since  then,  and  those  who 
still  remain,  now  for  the  most  part  walk  in  fetters. 
But  the  courtier  is  eternal  and  unchanged.    He  fawned 
on  Pharaoh  and  Caesar  and  from  their  day  to  our  own 
has  always  been  the  worst  enemy  of  those  he  flattered. 
He  and  his  fellows  contended  bitterly  in  France  for 
the  privilege  of  holding  the  king's  shirt,  and  when 
the  storm  broke  which  they  had  done  so  much  to  con- 
jure up,  with  few  exceptions  they  turned  like  cravens 
and   fled.    New   courtiers   took   the   vacant   places. 
They  called  themselves  friends  of  the  people,  but  their 
character  was  unaltered.    They  flattered  the  mob  of 
the  Paris  streets,  shrieking  in  the  galleries  of  the  Con- 
vention, with  a  baseness  and  a  falsehood  surpassing 
even  those  of  their  predecessors  who  had  cringed  around 
the  throne.    Where  there  is  a  sovereign  there  will  be 
courtiers,  and  too  often  the  sovereign  has  listened  to 
the  courtiers  and  turned  his  back  on  the  loyal  friends 
who  were  ready  to  die  for  him  but  would  not  lie  to 
him.    Too  often  has  the  sovereign  forgotten  that,  in 
the  words  of  one  of  the  most  penetrating  and  most 
brilliant  of  modern  English  essayists,  ''a  gloomy  truth 
is  a  better  companion  through  life  than  a  cheerful 


86  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS 

falsehood."  Across  the  centuries  come  those  danger- 
ous and  insidious  voices  and  they  sound  as  loudly 
now  and  are  as  false  now  as  ever.  They  are  always  at 
hand  to  tell  the  sovereign  that  at  his  feet  the  tide  will 
cease  to  ebb  and  flow,  that  the  laws  of  nature  and 
economic  laws  alike  will  at  his  bidding  turn  gently 
and  do  his  will.  And  the  tides  move  on  and  the  waves 
rise  and  the  sovereign  who  has  listened  to  the  false 
and  selfish  voices  is  submerged  in  the  waste  of  waters, 
while  the  courtiers  have  rushed  back  to  safety  and 
from  the  heights  above  are  already  shouting,  ''The 
king  is  dead  !    Long  live  the  king  !'^ 

I  have  a  deep  reverence  for  the  great  men  who  fought 
the  Revolution  and  made  the  Constitution,  but  I  re- 
peat that  I  as  little  think  that  all  wisdom  died  with 
them  as  I  do  that  all  wisdom  was  born  yesterday. 
When  they  dealt  with  elemental  questions  and  funda- 
mental principles,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
forever  in  human  history,  I  follow  them  because  they 
have  proved  their  wisdom  b}^  their  success.  I  am  not 
ready  to  say  with  Donne: 

We  are  scarce  our  father's  shadow  cast  at  noon; 

but  I  am  more  than  ready — I  profoundly  believe  that 
we  should  cherish  in  our  heart  of  hearts  the  noble  and 
familiar  words  of  the  wise  son  of  Sirach: 

Let  us  now  praise  famous  men  and  our  fathers  that  begat  us. 
The  Lord  hath  wrought  great  glory  by  them  through  his  great 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  ITS  MAKERS  87 

power  from  the  beginning.  Leaders  of  the  people  by  their 
counsels  and  by  their  knowledge  of  learning  meet  for  the  peo- 
ple; wise  and  eloquent  in  their  instructions;  all  these  were 
honored  in  their  generations  and  were  the  glory  of  their  times. 

There  be  of  them,  that  have  left  a  name  behind  them,  that 
their  praises  might  be  reported.  And  some  there  be  which 
have  no  memorial;  who  are  perished  as  though  they  had  never 
been;  and  are  become  as  though  they  had  never  been  born; 
and  their  children  after  them.  But  these  were  merciful  men 
whose  righteousness  hath  not  been  forgotten.  With  their 
seed  shall  continually  remain  a  good  inheritance  and  their 
children  are  within  the  covenant. 

Their  seed  standeth  fast  and  their  children  for  their  sakcs. 
Their  seed  shall  remain  forever  and  their  glory  shall  not  be 
blotted  out.  Their  bodies  are  buried  in  peace;  but  their  name 
liveth  forevermore.  The  people  will  tell  of  their  wisdom  and 
the  congregation  will  show  forth  their  praise. 


THE  COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFER- 
ENDUM, AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES  ^ 

In  discussing  a  subject  so  momentous  as  the  prin- 
ciples of  government  it  is  of  great  importance  to  de- 
termine at  the  outset  exactly  what  we  mean  by  the 
terms  we  use.  Nothing  is  more  dangerous,  when  we 
are  trying  through  inquiry  to  arrive  at  direct  results, 
than  to  be  the  slaves  of  words  or  phrases.  We  all 
believe  in  liberty,  for  instance,  and  desire  to  promote 
it,  but  explanatory  words  are  needed,  for  the  liberty 
we  mean,  and  the  only  liberty  worth  having,  is  an 
ordered  freedom  and  not  the  license  which  knows  no 
law.  The  word  '^ progress"  has  been  much  used  of 
late  in  public  discussion,  but  mere  progress  is  not 
necessarily  good.  Everything  depends  on  the  direc- 
tion in  which  the  progress  is  made.  We  speak,  for 
example,  of  the  progress  of  a  disease,  which  is  a  most 
undesirable  progress  either  in  a  human  being  or  in  a 
body  politic.  Progress  is  our  aim  and  purpose  only 
when  it  means  an  advance  from  bad  to  good,  from 
good  to  better,  or  from  better  to  best.  The  word 
"people,''  again,  in  connection  with  the  constitutional 

lAn  address  delivered  at  Princeton  University  March  8,  1912. 
I  have  omitted  from  this  address  those  portions  which  were  merely 
repetitions  of  arguments  contained  in  the  two  preceding  addresses. 

88 


COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM      89 

changes  which  have  been  advocated  for  the  last  few 
years,  is  also  used  in  a  misleading  manner.  The 
"  people '^  referred  to  in  the  Constitution  means  all 
the  people  of  the  United  States.  "People'^  as  referred 
to  in  popular  discussion  by  those  who  favor  radical 
alterations  in  our  Constitution  invariably  means  a 
majority  of  the  voters,  which  is  a  totally  different 
thing  from  the  people.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  voters 
are  the  channel  through  which  we  necessarily  obtain 
an  expression  of  the  popular  will,  but  a  majority  of 
the  voters  are  not  necessarily  the  people  and  do  not  at 
all  times  represent  the  real  wishes  of  the  people. 

The  majority  of  those  who  vote  on  any  given  ques- 
tion may  be  a  very  narrow  one.  It  may  be  a  very 
ephemeral  one.  The  majority  of  one  year  may  be 
the  minority  of  the  next,  and  yet  you  will  observe  that 
in  all  the  practical  arrangements  for  the  compulsory 
initiative  and  referendum  and  for  the  recall  of  judges, 
the  people  who  can  compel  the  initiative  and  who  in 
practice  carry  the  referendum,  the  number  who  can 
force  a  recall  and  who,  in  its  practical  operation,  may 
be  able  to  carry  it,  are  but  a  small  minority  of  the  voters. 
To  start  the  initiative  or  the  recall,  in  all  the  provisions 
that  I  have  seen,  only  a  minority,  sometimes  a  very 
small  percentage,  of  those  who  voted  at  the  last  elec- 
tion is  required.  When  the  act  asked  for  has  been 
adopted  by  the  legislature  and  referred,  it  appears,  if 
experience  is  of  any  value,  that  a  large  proportion  of 


90      COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

the  voters  express  no  opinion,  cither  from  indifference 
or  from  not  comprehending  the  question,  while  the 
small  and  interested  minority  take  pains  to  vote  for 
the  law,  the  submission  of  which  to  the  voters  has 
been  compelled  by  their  original  action.  The  result 
is  that  laws  are  placed  upon  the  statute-book  without 
any  sufficient  evidence  that  they  are  there  —  I  will 
not  say  by  the  will  of  the  people,  but  even  by  the  will 
of  the  majority  of  the  registered  voters.  A  small 
minority  of  the  voters  would  be  generally  effective 
under  these  methods,  and  of  course  a  small  minority 
of  the  voters  is  a  still  smaller  minority  of  the  people, 
for  the  voters  themselves  are  a  comparatively  small 
minority  of  the  whole  people.  Therefore  it  is  impor- 
tant to  bear  in  mind  that  when  it  is  proposed  to  make 
the  government  more  directly  a  government  of  the 
people,  what  is  intended  is  to  make  the  government 
more  quickly  responsive  to  and  more  absolutely  under 
the  control  of  the  majority  of  the  voters,  whether  that 
majority  is  large  or  small.  Also  it  is  to  be  remembered 
that  this  will  result  in  the  destruction  of  representative 
government,  about  which  I  shall  have  something  to 
say  later  on,  and  it  is  the  substitution  of  the  will  of  a 
portion  of  the  voters  for  the  will  of  all  the  voters  who 
are  now  represented  by  the  legislative  bodies.  I  cannot 
express  my  meaning  better  than  by  quoting  from  a 
distinguished  ex-president  of  this  university,^  who  says 

1  President  Wilson. 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES  91 

ill  his  book  on  Constitutional  Government;  published 
in  1908: 

There  are  many  evidences  that  we  are  losing  confidence  in 
our  State  legislatures,  and  yet  it  is  evident  that  it  is  through 
them  that  we  attempt  all  the  more  intimate  measures  of  self- 
government.  To  lose  faith  in  them  is  to  lose  faith  in  our  very 
system  of  government,  and  that  is  a  very  serious  matter.  It 
is  this  loss  of  confidence  in  our  legislatures  that  has  led  our 
people  to  give  so  much  heed  to  the  radical  suggestions  of  change 
made  by  those  who  advocate  the  use  of  the  initiative  and  the 
referendum  in  our  processes  of  legislation,  the  virtual  abandon- 
ment of  the  representative  principle,  and  the  attempt  to  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  voters  themselves  the  power  to  initiate 
and  negative  laws,  in  order  to  enable  them  to  do  for  themselves 
what  they  have  not  been  able  to  get  satisfactorily  done  through 
the  representatives  they  have  hitherto  chosen  to  act  for  them. 

In  the  same  way,  when  we  come  to  the  considera- 
tion of  the  Constitution  upon  which  I  am  to  have  the 
honor  to  speak  to  you  to-night,  it  is  important  to  know 
just  what  we  mean  by  a  "constitution.'^  A  constitu- 
tion in  its  proper  significance,  as  I  understand  it,  is 
a  declaration  of  certain  broad  principles  upon  which 
government  must  be  based  and  by  which  laws  are  to 
be  tested.  The  people  with  great  deliberation  agree 
upon  these  general  principles,  submitted  to  them  by 
men  capable  of  defining  and  formulating  them,  and 
then  they  are  adopted  by  the  voters  after  long  con- 
sideration and  debate.  They  are  not  put  beyond  the 
possibility  of  change,  as  we  are  told  was  the  ease  with 


IlA-\  IJ  <  I  J 


/       92      COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

I  the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  but  change  or  amendment  of 
\  the  instrument  are  provided  for  under  conditions  which 
^  not  only  make  alteration  difficult  but  which  are  framed 
to  secure  as  nearly  as  possible  the  expression  of  the 
will  of  an  overwhelming  majority  of  the  voters  who 
represent  the  people.  Laws  which  are  subsequently 
passed  by  the  legislative  bodies  called  into  being  by 
the  Constitution  are  to  be  tested  and  tried  by  the 
general  principles  which  the  people  have  estabhshed  as 
the  foundation  of  all  government.  In  this  country 
we  have  fallen  into  the  bad  habit  in  most  of  the  States 
of  placing  in  constitutions  provisions  which  should  be 
the  subject  of  laws  and  statutes  and  which  have  no 
relation  to  general  principles.  The  effect  of  this  has 
been  extremely  unfortunate,  for  it  has  caused  a  wide- 
spread feeling  that  constitutions  do  not  differ  from 
laws;  that  they  may  deal  with  any  subject  and  be  the 
I  receptacle  of  any  ideas  which  at  the  moment  happen 
1  to  be  popular.  This  involves  not  only  a  complete 
misapprehension  of  the  true  purposes  of  the  Constitu- 
tion, but  tends  to  destroy  the  sanctity  which  an  in- 
strument embodying  great  general  principles  of  govern- 
ment ought  always  to  possess.  I  cannot  put  the  point 
which  I  have  been  trying  to  make  better  than  by 
quoting  again  the  former  distinguished  president  of 
this  university.  In  a  work  entitled  The  State,  in  sec- 
tion 896,  dealing  with  this  habit  of  regarding  the  Con- 
stitution as  if  it  was  an  ordinary  law,  Mr.  Wilson  says: 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES       93 

The  objections  to  the  practice  are  as  obvious  as  they  are 
weighty.  General  outHnes  of  organization,  such  as  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States  contains,  may  be  made  to  stand 
without  essential  alteration  for  long  periods  together,  but  in 
proportion  as  constitutions  make  provision  for  interests  whose 
aspects  must  change  from  time  to  time  with  changing  circum- 
stances they  enter  the  domain  of  such  law  as  must  be  subject 
to  constant  modification  and  adaptation.  Not  only  must  the 
distinctions  between  constitutional  and  ordinary  law  hitherto 
recognized  and  valued  tend  to  be  fatally  obscured,  but  the  much 
to  be  desired  stability  of  constitutional  provisions  must  in  great 
part  be  sacrificed.  Those  constitutions  which  contain  the  largest 
amount  of  extraneous  matter,  which  does  not  concern  at  all 
the  structure  or  functions  of  government,  but  only  private  or 
particular  interests,  must,  of  course,  however  carefully  drawn, 
prove  subject  to  most  frequent  change.  In  some  of  our  States, 
accordingly,  constitutions  have  been  as  often  changed  as  im- 
portant statutes.  The  danger  is  that  constitution  making  will 
become  with  us  only  a  cumbrous  mode  of  legislation. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  which  Mr. 
Wilson  citeS;  is  a  true  representative  of  what  a  con- 
stitution should  be.  It  contains  only  general  prin- 
ciples, with  provisions  for  the  machmery  necessaiy  to 
carry  on  the  government  based  on  those  general  prin- 
ciples. The  first  ten  Amendments  to  the  Constitu- 
tion, adopted  immediately  after  its  ratification  by  the 
required  number  of  States,  are  in  reality  a  bill  of  rights 
and  were  placed  there  as  the  famous  bill  of  rights  was 
placed  in  the  statute-book  of  England  and  as  the  bill 
of  rights  was  placed  in  the  Constitution  of  1780  of 
Massachusetts,  a  constitution  which  still  endures,  with 


94      COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

the  view  of  protecting  the  rights  of  the  individual 
man  and  of  the  minority  against  the  possible  tyranny 
of  the  majority.  Lord  Acton,  in  his  History  of  Freedom^ 
in  one  of  the  essays  on  liberty,  says: 

The  most  certain  test  by  which  we  judge  whether  a  country 
is  really  free  is  the  amount  of  security  enjoyed  by  minorities. 

The  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  with  its  first 
ten  Amendments,  meets  that  severe  test  more  success- 
fully, I  believe,  than  any  constitution  ever  framed  by 
man.  Let  me  quote  once  more  the  same  eminent 
authority  as  to  what  we  accomplished  in  America  when 
we  framed  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

American  independence  was  the  beginning  of  a  new  era, 
not  merely  as  a  revival  of  the  Revolution,  but  because  no  other 
revolution  ever  proceeded  from  so  slight  a  cause  or  was  ever 
conducted  with  so  much  moderation.  The  European  mon- 
archies supported  it.  The  greatest  statesmen  in  England 
averred  that  it  was  just.  It  established  a  pure  democracy, 
but  it  was  democracy  in  its  highest  perfection,  armed  and 
vigilant,  less  against  aristocracy  and  monarchy  than  against 
its  own  weakness  and  excess.  Whilst  England  was  admired 
for  the  safeguards  with  which,  in  the  course  of  many  centuries, 
it  had  fortified  liberty  against  the  power  of  the  crown,  America 
appeared  still  more  worthy  of  admiration  for  the  safeguards 
which,  in  the  deliberations  of  a  single  memorable  year,  it  had 
set  up  against  the  power  of  its  own  sovereign  people.  It  re- 
sembled no  other  known  democracy,  for  it  respected  freedom, 
authority,  and  law.  It  resembled  no  other  constitution,  for  it 
was  contained  in  half  a  dozen  intelligible  articles.  Ancient 
Europe  opened  its  mind  to  two  new  ideas  —  that  revolution 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES        95 

with  very  little  provocation  may  be  just  and  that  democracy  in 
very  large  dimensions  may  be  safe. 

No  greater  tribute  than  this  has  ever  been  paid  to 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and  it  is  all 
stated  with  the  precision  and  the  weight  of  a  profound 
student  of  human  history.  What  he  says  of  our  Con- 
stitution follows  an  essay  upon ''  Freedom  in  Antiquity/' 
in  which  he  sketches  the  rise  and  fall  of  Athenian  de- 
mocracy, the  gradual  departure  from  the  laws  of  Solon, 
the  development  of  legislation  by  direct  popular  vote, 
and  the  removal  of  all  limitations  upon  the  power  and 
action  of  the  majority.  Let  me  read  to  you  the  words 
in  which  Lord  Acton  sums  up  the  result: 

The  philosophy  that  was  then  in  the  ascendant  taught  them 
that  there  is  no  law  superior  to  that  of  the  State  —  the  lawgiver 
is  above  the  law. 

It  followed  that  the  sovereign  people  had  a  right  to  do  what- 
ever was  within  its  power,  and  was  bound  by  no  rule  of  right 
or  wrong  but  its  own  judgment  of  expediency.  On  a  memorable 
occasion  the  assembled  Athenians  declared  it  monstrous  that 
they  should  be  prevented  from  doing  whatever  they  chose. 
No  force  that  existed  could  restrain  them;  and  they  resolved 
that  no  duty  should  restrain  them,  and  that  they  would  be 
bound  by  no  laws  that  were  not  of  their  own  making.  In  this 
way  the  emancipated  people  of  Athens  became  a  tyrant;  and 
their  government,  the  pioneer  of  European  freedom,  stands 
condemned  with  a  terrible  unanimity  by  all  the  wisest  of  the 
ancients.  They  ruined  their  city  by  attempting  to  conduct 
war  by  debate  in  the  market  place.  Like  the  French  Republic, 
they    put    their   unsuccessful   commanders    to   death.     They 


96      COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

treated  their  dependencies  with  such  injustice  that  they  lost 
their  maritime  empire.  They  plundered  the  rich  until  the  rich 
conspired  with  the  public  enemy,  and  they  crowned  their  guilt 
by  the  martyrdom  of  Socrates. 

When  the  absolute  sway  of  numbers  had  endured  for  near  a 
quarter  of  a  century,  nothing  but  bare  existence  was  left  for 
the  State  to  lose;  and  the  Athenians,  wearied  and  despondent, 
confessed  the  true  cause  of  their  ruin.  .  .  .  The  repentance 
of  the  Athenians  came  too  late  to  save  the  Republic.  But  the 
lesson  of  their  experience  endures  for  all  times,  for  it  teaches 
that  government  by  the  whole  people,  being  the  government 
of  the  most  numerous  and  most  powerful  class,  is  an  evil  of 
the  same  nature  as  unmixed  monarchy,  and  requires,  for  nearly 
the  same  reasons,  institutions  that  shall  protect  it  against  it- 
self, and  shall  uphold  the  permanent  reign  of  law  against  arbi- 
trary revolutions  of  opinion. 

My  purpose  in  citing  this  passage  from  Lord  Acton 
is  not  to  remind  you  of  the  failure  of  Athenian  democ- 
racy, but  to  call  to  your  attention,  what  it  is  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  remember  in  the  discussion  in 
which  we  are  engaged,  and  that  is  that  the  proposi- 
tions now  offered  for  changing  our  system  of  govern- 
ment and  our  Constitution  are  all  very  old.  Legisla- 
tion by  direct  popular  vote  was  familiar  to  the 
Athenians  and  you  have  but  to  read  The  Republic  and 
the  Laws  of  Plato  and  the  Politics  of  Aristotle  to  find 
out  that  there  are  scarcely  any  ideas  in  regard  to  gov- 
ernment which  were  not  developed  and  discussed  by  the 
Greeks,  men  of  perhaps  the  highest  intelligence  which 
the  world  has  ever  seen.    Li  the  same  way,  legislation 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES        97  \ 

by  direct  popular  vote  coupled  with  the  veto  of  the 
tribunes  of  the  people,  was  practised  in  Rome,  and  the 
outcome  is  familiar  to  all  the  world.  The  result  was 
the  despotism  of  the  Caesars.  The  one  great  contri- 
bution of  modern  times  to  the  science  of  government 
has  been  the  representative  system.  There  were 
hesitating  steps  taken  in  that  direction  during  the 
Middle  Ages,  but  the  real  development  of  the  repre- 
sentative principle  was  effected  in  England  and  has 
been  the  glory  of  the  English-speaking  race.  Repre- 
sentative government,  in  other  words,  stood  for  a 
great  advance  over  the  democratic  systems  of  Greece 
and  Rome  and  of  the  mediaeval  Italian  cities.  I  am 
not  now  concerned  to  show  from  history  which  system 
was  the  more  successful.  I  merely  desire  at  this  point 
to  call  your  attention  to  the  fact  that,  while  it  might 
be  better  or  worse  to  adopt  legislation  by  direct  vote 
as  a  substitute  for  representative  government,  there 
can  be  no  question  whatever  that  to  abandon  repre- 
sentative government  and  take  up  in  its  place  legisla- 
tion by  direct  vote  is  to  return  from  a  high  stage  of 
evolution  to  a  lower  and  more  primitive  one.  The  life 
of  the  amoeba  may  be  a  better  life  and  a  more  enviable 
one  than  that  of  the  elephant,  for  example,  but  there 
can  be  no  question  that  the  amoeba  is  a  lower  stage  in 
the  scale  of  evolution  than  is  the  elephant. 

There  is  therefore  nothing  new  in  these  propositions 
as  to  legislation  by  direct  vote,  and  if  we  examine  the 


98      COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

scheme  for  the  recall  of  judges  we  shall  see  that  there 
is  nothing  novel  in  that  idea  either,  for  not  only  has 
control  of  the  courts  by  the  sovereign  authority  been 
familiar  at  all  stages  of  history,  but  the  actual  practice 
of  judicial  recall  was  attempted  in  France  during  the 
Revolution  of  1848.  The  provisional  government 
made  the  judges  removable  at  pleasure,  and  if  you  will 
take  the  trouble  to  read  the  manifestoes  issued  by 
Ledru-Rollin  you  will  see  how  he  asks  the  voters  to 
let  him  know  if  any  judge  does  not  behave  in  accord- 
ance with  their  wishes,  so  that  he  may  remove  the 
peccant  magistrate,  and  he  further  calls  attention  to 
the  fact  that  the  judges  are  on  the  bench  simply  to 
do  the  popular  will.  They  had  also,  at  the  time  of 
that  Revolution  in  1848,  not  only  this  control  of  the 
judges  under  the  provisional  government,  but  also  the 
"mandat  imperatif'  and  government  workshops.  I 
will  only  pause  long  enough  to  say  that  the  result  of 
those  experiments  in  France  was  the  plebiscite  and  the 
Third  Napoleon.  Representative  government  and  lib- 
berty  faded  away  together  and  the  executive  became 
all-powerful.  Therefore  I  repeat  that  in  these  proposi- 
tions now  made  to  us  there  is  nothing  new.  They  are 
old  propositions.  We  are  to-day  asked  to  lay  aside 
the  great  advance  in  government  made,  as  history 
shows,  by  the  representative  system  and  return  to 
earlier  forms. 
Let  us  first  consider  the  compulsory  initiative  and 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES  99 

referendum  in  their  practical  working.  One  of  the 
great  arguments  used  by  the  advocates  of  these  changes 
in  our  Constitution  is  that  by  obtaining  the  direct 
action  of  the  voters  we  shall  be  free  from  the  demoraliz- 
ing influence  and  from  the  control  of  money  in  politics 
and  in  our  legislatures.  In  the  alterations,  so  generally 
made  of  late  in  our  election  laws  in  order  to  compel 
nominations  to  be  made  in  popular  primaries,  we  have 
an  opportunity  to  test  the  claim  which  has  been  ad- 
vanced in  favor  of  these  reforms,  that  we  should 
thereby  rid  ourselves  of  the  influence  of  money.  The 
method  of  choosing  executive  officers  or  members  of 
the  legislature  is  an  alteration  only  in  the  mechanism 
of  government,  although  I  personally  think  that  many 
of  these  changes  are  and  have  proved  to  be  injurious 
and  not  beneficial.  But  none  the  less  these  primaiy 
systems  afford  us,  as  I  have  just  said,  an  excellent 
opportunity  of  testing  the  question  of  the  use  of  money 
under  a  system  of  direct  popular  action.  I  have  al- 
ways believed  theoretically  that  the  more  elections  and 
elective  offices  were  multiplied,  and  the  more  elabo- 
rate the  machinery  for  selecting  and  electing  candidates, 
the  larger  the  field  for  professional  politicians  and  for 
the  employment  of  money  to  control  election  results. 
The  evidence  afforded  by  the  primary  system  in  actual 
operation  seems  to  confirm  this  theory.  In  the  con- 
test which  arose  over  the  seat  of  Senator  Stephenson, 
of  Wisconsin,  where  the  primary  system  is  in  full 


100    COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

operation,  some  interesting  facts  were  brought  out. 
It  appears  that  in  1909,  at  the  time  when  Senator 
Stephenson  was  nominated  in  the  primaries,  the 
expenditures  at  the  primary  election  by  all  candidates, 
exclusive  of  the  amounts  spent  by  the  senatorial  can- 
didates, is  conservatively  estimated  on  the  returns 
required  by  law  at  $610,174,  and  if  the  amount  ex- 
pended by  all  the  senatorial  candidates  be  added,  the 
total  amount  spent  in  those  primary  elections  comes 
to  $802,659,  while  the  total  vote,  RepubHcan  and 
Democratic,  was  230,291.  In  other  words,  it  cost 
$3.48  per  vote  to  get  that  number  of  voters  to  the 
polls,  and  I  believe  that  I  am  right  in  saying  that  only 
about  one-half  of  the  Republican  vote  of  the  State  was 
actually  polled  in  the  primaries.  Nothing  in  the  past 
under  the  old  convention  system  has  equalled  this 
really  appalling  expenditure  at  the  primaries  in  a 
single  year  and  in  a  single  State.  From  this  evidence 
of  the  primaries,  what  reason  have  we  to  hope  that 
money  will  not  play  an  enormous  part  in  securing  the 
initiation,  the  reference,  and  the  adoption  of  any 
adroitly  drawn  laws  which  the  great  money  interests 
may  happen  to  desire?  .  .  . 

Let  me  in  closing  end  where  I  began  by  once  more 
calling  your  attention  to  the  purpose  and  spirit  of  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States.  The  immediate 
object  of  the  men  who  met  at  Philadelphia  in  1787  was 
to  provide  for  a  Union  of  the  States  in  a  general  gov- 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES       1.01 

ernment  and  for  the  adjustment  of  the  relations  between 
the  general  government  thus  created  and  the  several 
States.    The  result  in  this  direction  was  a  very  re- 
markable piece  of  work  and  has  ever  since  commanded 
the  admiration  of  the  world.    It  was  the  appUcation 
of  the  principles  of  federation  on  a  scale  and  in  a  manner 
which  made  it  practically  a  new  achievement  in  the 
science  of  government  and  the  fundamental  questions 
growing  out  of  the  relations  of  the  States  to  the  general 
government,  which  occupied  in  their  discussion  the 
first  seventy  years  of  our  existence,  and  which  culmi- 
nated in  a  civil  war,  have  been  settled.    No  one  to-day 
desires  to  disturb  those  relations  as  they  have  been 
finally  determined,  and  no  direct  change  in  them  is 
sought  by  any  of  those  who  now  urge  reforms  upon  us. 
The  rest  of  the  work  in  1787  was  the  estabhshment 
and  declaration  of  certain  fundamental  principles  upon 
which  free  government  was  to  rest.   In  the  Constitution 
itself  the  makers  acted  on  the  principle  that  the  thi'ee 
great  branches  of  government  —  the  legislative,  the 
executive,  and  the  judicial  —  should  be  equal,  inde- 
pendent, and  co-ordinate.    Their  action  carried  out  in 
practice  the  fundamental  principle  of  free  government, 
as  I  conceive  it,  which  is  expressed  in  the  constitution 
of  Massachusetts  in  specific  words.    Let  me  quote 
those  words  to  you,  for  they  are,  as  I  believe,  a  very 
great  and  a  very  noble  declaration.    The  thirtieth 
article  of  the  constitution  of  Massachusetts  says: 


/ 


102    CGIvIPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

In  the  government  of  this  Commonwealth  the  legislative 
department  shall  never  exercise  the  executive  and  judicial 
powers,  or  either  of  them;  the  executive  shall  never  exercise 
the  legislative  and  judicial  powers,  or  either  of  them;  the  judicial 
shall  never  exercise  the  legislative  and  executive  powers,  or 
either  of  them,  to  the  end  it  may  be  a  government  of  laws  and 
not  of  men. 


That  is  one  and  perhaps  the  greatest  of  the  principles 
embodied  by  its  makers  in  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States.  But  it  is  only  one  of  many.  In  the 
first  ten  articles  of  amendment,  without  which  the  Con- 
stitution would  never  have  been  ratified  by  the  neces- 
sary number  of  States,  there  is  embodied,  as  I  have 
said,  a  bill  of  rights,  and  in  those  ten  amendments 
every  line  is  a  statement  of  a  general  principle.  The 
bill  of  rights  was  intended  to  protect  the  rights  of 
minorities  and  of  individuals.  The  separation  of  the 
three  great  dep^a^Ttments  wa^  meant  to  prevent  the 
concentration  of  power,  and  all  were  intended  to  put 
limitations  upon  numerical  majorities.  The  framers 
of  the  Constitution  did  not  believe  that  any  man  or 
any  body  of  men  could  safely  be  intrusted  with  un- 
limited power.  They  thought,  and  all  experience 
justified  them  in  thinking,  that  human  nature  could 
not  support  the  temptation  which  unlimited  power 
always  brings.  They  had  deeply  ingrained  the  behef 
of  the  English-speaking  people  that  the  power  of  the 
king  should  be  strictly  limited.    They  felt  that  this 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES  103 

great  principle  applied  with  equal  force  to  ten  thousand 
or  ten  million  kings  —  in  other  words,  to  a  popular 
majority  of  numbers.  They  established  a  represent- 
ative democracy  and  a  thoroughly  popular  govern- 
ment, but  they  thought  that  the  "right  divine  of 
kings  to  govern  wrong"  was  as  false  and  dangerous  a 
maxim  when  applied  to  many  men  called  voters  as 
when  applied  to  one  who  happened  to  wear  a  crown. 

The  people,  through  their  delegates,  made  the  Con- 
stitution. They  can  unmake  it.  They  can  create  and 
they  can  destroy,  but  the  destruction  or  the  alteration 
must  be  the  work  of  the  people  and  not  of  a  temporary 
majority  of  voters.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  it  is  pro- 
vided in  the  Constitution  that  amendment  and  change 
can  only  come  by  methods  which  insure,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible, the  expression  of  the  will  of  a  steadfast  and  de- 
cisive if  not  overwhelming  majority  of  the  people. 
Two-thirds  of  their  representatives  in  Congress  and 
the  Senate  must  vote  for  an  amendment,  and  three- 
fourths  of  the  States  must  adopt  it.  The  British  Con- 
stitution puts  limitations  on  the  power  of  the  crown; 
the  American  Constitution  puts  limitations  on  the 
power  of  the  majority  of  the  voters.  These  limitations 
are  to  assure  the  preservation  of  the  Constitution  from 
any  change  which  the  people  —  the  whole  people  and 
not  merely  a  majority  of  voters  —  do  not  demand,  and 
to  make  it  certain  that  there  shall  be  no  amendment 
except  after  ample  consideration  and  by  the  most 


104    COMPULSORY  INITIATIVE  AND  REFERENDUM 

decisive  expression  of  the  people's  will.  If  all  these 
checks  and  balances,  all  these  carefully  devised  safe- 
guards which  are  to  secure  the  people  in  their  own 
government  and  to  protect  minorities  and  individuals, 
are  to  be  swept  away,  then  there  is  no  need  of  any 
Constitution  at  all.  General  principles  must  then  be 
cast  to  the  winds,  and  we  must  hold  our  lives,  our 
honor,  our  liberties,  and  our  property  at  the  will  of  a 
majority  of  numbers,  narrow  perhaps,  fleeting,  uncer- 
tain; here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow,  from  which  no 
man  can  gather  assurance  as  to  his  future  or  as  to  his 

rights. 

The  most  vital  perhaps  of  all  the  great  principles 
embodied  in  the  Constitution  is  that  of  securing  the 
absolute  independence  of  the  judiciary.  Courts  are 
human  and  they  have  erred,  but  bear  in  mind  that 
this  is  a  comparative  world.  As  Doctor  Johnson  wisely 
said: 

In  political  regulations  good  can  never  be  complete;  it  can 
only  be  predominant. 

It  is  not  a  question  of  whether  you  are  going  to  sub- 
stitute for  a  system  imperfect  with  some  of  the  imper- 
fections inherent  in  human  nature  another  system 
absolutely  perfect  and  final.  The  question  to  be  de- 
cided is  whether  the  system  which  is  proposed  is  better 
than  the  system  we  have.  The  great  Roman  jurist, 
Ulpian,  defined  the  law  in  a  memorable  phrase  which 


AND  THE  RECALL  OF  JUDGES  105 

was  subsequently  embodied  in  the  Digest  or  Pandects 
of  Justinian.    Let  me  recall  it  to  you: 

Jiistitla  est  constaiis  et  perpctua  voluntas  jus  suum  cuique 
tribuendi.  Juris  prsecepta  sunt  haec:  honeste  vivere,  alterum 
non  liBdere,  suum  cuique  tribuere.  Jurisprudencia  est  divinarum 
atque  humanarum  rerum  notitia,  justi  atque  injustis  cientia. 

That  is  a  great  and  noble  conception  of  the  law  and 
one  that  it  is  well  to  bear  in  mind  so  that  you  may 
determine  where  it  is  most  likely  to  be  observed  and 
held  sacred,  whether  it  will  be  most  surely  found  in 
the  quiet  of  the  court  or  among  vast  masses  of  men 
heated  with  political  and  party  passion.    In  the  long  ' 
course  of  the  centuries  during  which  western  civiliza- 
tion has  been  developed  it  has  been  proved  again  and 
again  that  whatever  its  defects  there  is  nothing  so 
essential,  so  vital  to  human  rights  and  human  liberty, 
as  an  independent  court.    Beware  how  you  break  down 
that  principle  because  courts  here  and  there  have 
erred.    Hard  cases  make  the  worst  laws  and  bad  laws 
are  the  breeders  of  anarchy  and  disorder.    We  must 
proceed,  if  we  would  proceed  with  safety  and  lasting 
results,  on  general  principles;  and  if  history  proves 
anything  it  proves  that  the  greatest  safeguard  of  human 
rights  in  the  long  run  is  to  be  found  in  independent 
courts  which  can  be  swayed  neither  by  the  whisper 
of  the  bribe-giver,  by  the  clamor  of  the  mob,  by  the 
command  of  the  autocrat,  or  by  the  dark  threats  of 
secret  organizations. 


THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  THE  BILL  OF 
RIGHTS ' 

During  the  last  few  years  other  questions  have 
arisen  far  more  important  than  any  tariff  or  any  cur- 
rency can  possibly  be,  because  they  involve  nothing 
less  than  the  fundamental  principles  of  American  gov- 
ernment. An  agitation  has  been  in  progress  and  is 
now  being  carried  on  by  men  of  both  parties,  whether 
the  party  division  which  it  causes  has  been  declared 
or  not,  which  aims  at  and  if  successful  can  lead  to  noth- 
ing less  than  a  complete  revolution  in  our  system  of 
government.  The  scheme  has  now  extended  to  the 
primaries,  which  are  merely  a  part  of  the  machinery 
of  government  and  do  not  in  themselves  involve  any 
constitutional  principle.  It  has  been  seriously  pro- 
posed in  this  State,  and  I  think  in  this  State  alone,  to 
abolish  party  enrolment  from  the  party  primary. 
The  proposition  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  The 
primaries  were  established  for  the  purpose  of  purify- 
ing and  improving  the  methods  of  nominating  part)'' 
candidates  and  for  no  other  object.  Those  who  belong 
to  no  party  are  not  compelled  to  enter  them  and  have 

^  From  a  speech  as  presiding  officer  at  the  RepubHcan  State  Con- 
vention of  Massachusetts  held  in  Boston  October  5,  1912. 

100 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  107 

no  right  to  do  so  unless  they  intend  to  become  members 
of  some  party  for  which  and  for  which  alone  party 
primaries  exist.    If  you  abolish  the  party  enrollment 
and  the  party  ticket  and  put  all  the  names  on  one  ballot 
you  turn  the  primaries  into  a  preliminary  election. 
But  at  the  same  time  you  do  much  more  than  this,  for 
you  would  then  have  an  arrangement  by  which  or- 
ganized minorities,  belonging  to  any  party  or  to  none, 
could  go  into  the  primaries  and  control  the  nominations 
of  all  parties.    In  other  words,  under  this  system  not 
only  Democrats  but  any  voters  not  Repubhcans  can 
decide  the  selection  of  Repubhcan  candidates,  and  of 
course  the  same  is  true  of -Democratic  candidates,  who 
could  be  nominated  by  Republican  or  even  Prohibition 
votes.    By  this  scheme  we  are  to  be  deprived  of  the 
right  of  choosing  our  own  candidates  and  the  whole 
thing  becomes  a  travesty  on  popular  government.    It 
is  idle  to  suppose  that  large  bodies  of  men  who  agree 
on  certain  political  principles  will  long  submit  to  having 
candidates  chosen  for  them  whose  selection  they  can- 
not themselves  control.    My  right  as  a  citizen  and  the 
right  of  those  who  think  with  me  to  nominate  our  own 
candidates  for  office  is  a  great  and  inalienable  right 
which  is  not  to  be  taken  from  us  by  any  jugglery  of  the 
statutes.    If  Repubhcans  are  not  to  have  the  oppor- 
tunity to  select  their  own  candidates  and  Democrats 
are  not  to  have  the  opportunity  to  select  theirs,  then 
I  say  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  responsible  political 


108  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

party  holding  well-settled  principles  and  favoring  well- 
defined  policies  to  select  its  own  candidates  by  its  own 
voluntaiy  methods  and  place  their  names  upon  the 
ballot  on  election-day  by  nomination  papers.  If  the 
party  enrolment  is  abolished  the  primaries  are  worth- 
less for  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  established, 
and  it  will  be  the  duty  of  all  responsible  parties  to  stay 
outside  of  them  and  nominate  their  candidates  them- 
selves and  then  place  them  upon  the  ballot  under  the 
means  provided  by  law.  I  have  mentioned  this  point 
because,  although  primaries  affect  only  the  mechanism 
of  government,  this  attempt  so  to  arrange  them,  that 
they  will  become  a  mere  vehicle  for  an  organized  minor- 
ity to  control  all  nominations,  brings  them  at  once  into 
relation  with  the  much  more  profound  changes  affect- 
ing fundamental  principles  which  are  now  urged  upon 
us. 

The  agitation  of  which  I  have  spoken  and  which, 
as  I  have  said,  aims  at  nothing  less  than  a  complete 
revolution  in  our  system  of  government,  begins  by 
this  distortion  of  the  primaries  and  then  seeks  to 
break  down  representative  government  and  make  the 
courts  subservient  to  the  will  of  a  majority  of  the  voters 
at  any  given  moment.  The  first  purpose  is  to  be  ac- 
complished by  the  compulsory  initiative  and  referen- 
dum; the  second  by  the  recall  of  judges  and  the  re- 
versal by  a  popular  vote  of  judicial  decisions.  I  am 
opposed  to  the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  109 

because  I  am  in  favor  of  government  by  the  people 
and  through  majorities  of  the  voters  and  I  am  opposed 
to  and  always  shall  resist  to  the  utmost  of  my  power 
any  attempt  to  substitute  for  them  government  by 
minorities  of  the  voters.    If  you  will  study  carefully 
the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum  you  will 
find  that  it  is  nothing  but  a  scheme  to  enable  minorities 
to  rule.    A  small  minority  of  the  voters  can  initiate 
legislation  and  compel  the  legislature  to  pass  laws. 
Wherever  the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum 
have  been  adopted,  this  power  of  compulsory  initia- 
tion has  been  conferred  upon  a  small  percentage  of 
the  voters.    Remember  at  the  outset  that  the  voters 
themselves  are  only  a  small  minority  of  the  people. 
The  total  vote  at  the  last  presidential  election  was  in 
round  numbers  fifteen  millions  and  the  population  of 
the  United  States  was  ninety  millions.     That  is,  one- 
sixth  of  the  people  took  part  in  the  presidential  elec- 
tion   and    one-twelfth    determined    the    result.    The 
voters  are  not  the  people.    They  are  merely  the  neces- 
sary instrument  selected  for  the  expression  of  the 
popular  will.    But  they  are  not  the  people;  they  are 
representatives  and  trustees.    Now  it  is  proposed  to 
give  to  a  small  fraction  of  the  voters  —  not  of  the  peo- 
ple—  this  great  power  to  compel  the  submission   of 
laws  to  a  popular  vote  and  when  those  laws  are  sub- 
mitted to  the  popular  vote  experience  shows  that  they 
are  almost  invariably  earned  by  a  minority  of  the 


110  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

voters.  Those  who  are  interested  in  the  passage  d 
the  law  of  course  take  pains  to  vote;  a  small  number 
who  are  interested  in  the  other  direction  vote  against 
it,  and  the  great  mass  remain  indifferent.  In  the 
State  of  Ohio  last  September  forty-two  constitutional 
amendments  were  submitted  to  the  people.    It  was 

1  The  details  of  the  voting,  which  are  very  instructive,  are  given  by 
Mr.  C.  B.  Galbraith,  who  was  secretary  of  the  convention,  in  an  article 
in  the  New  York  Independent  for  December  19,  1912. 

Following  is  the  vote  on  each  of  the  amendments: 

Votes 
No.  Yes  No 

1.  Reform  in  Civil  Jury  System 345,686     203,953 

2.  Abolition  of  Capital  Punishment 258,706     303,246 

3.  Depositions  by  State  and  Comment  on  Fail- 

ure of  Accused  to  Testify  in  Criminal  Cases  291,717  227,547 

4.  Suits  against  the  State 306,764  216,634 

5.  Damages  for  Wrongful  Death 355,605  195,216 

6.  Initiative  and  Referendum 312,592  231,312 

7.  Investigations  by  Each  House  of  General  As- 

sembly      348,779     175,337 

8.  Limiting  Veto  Power  of  Governor 282,412     254,186 

9.  Mechanics' and  Builders' Liens 278,582     242,385 

10.  Welfare  of  Employees 353,588  189,728 

11.  Workmen's  Compensation 321,558  211,772 

12.  Conservation  of  Natural  Resources 318,192  191,893 

13.  Eight-Hour  Day  on  PubHc  Work 333,307  232,898 

14.  Removal  of  Officials 347,333  185,986 

15.  Regulating    Expert   Testimony   in    Criminal 

Trials 336,987  185,458 

16.  Registering  and  Warranting  Land  Titles 346,373  171,807 

17.  Abolishing  Prison  Contract  Labor 333,034  215,208 

18.  Limiting  Power  of  General  Assembly  in  Extra 

Sessions 319,100     192,130 

19.  Change  in  Judicial  System 264,922     244,375 

20.  Judge  of  Court  of  Common  Pleas  for  Each 

County 301,891     223,287 

21.  Abolition  of  Justices  of  the  Peace  in  Certain 

Cities 264,832  252,936 

22.  Contempt  Proceedings  and  Injunctions 240,896  257,302 

23.  Woman's  Suffrage 249,420  336,875 

24.  Omitting  Word  *' White" 242,735  265,693 

25.  Use  of  Voting  Machines 242,342  288,652 

26.  Primary  Elections 349,801  183,112 

27.  Organization  of  Boards  of  Education 298,460  213,337 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  111 

practically  a  revision  of  their  fundamental  law  involv- 
ing questions  of  the  greatest  moment.  Fifty  per  cent 
only  of  the  vote  of  Ohio  for  governor  in  1908  was  cast 
for  the  amendment  receiving  the  highest  number  of 
votes  and  less  than  forty  per  cent  for  the  amendment 
receiving  the  lowest  number  of  votes.    Every  amend- 

VOTES 

No.  Yea  No 

28.  *  Creating  the  Office  of  Superintendent  of  Public 

Instruction  to  Replace  State  Commissioner 

of  Common  Schools 256,615     251,946 

29.  To  Extend  State  Bond  Limit  to  Fifty  MiUion 

Dollars  for  Inter-County  Wagon  Roads. . . .     272,564     274,582 

30.  Regulating  Insurance 321,388     196,628 

31.  Abolishing  Board  of  Public  Works 296,635     214,829 

32.  Taxation  of  State  and  Municipal  Bonds,  Inheri- 

tances, Incomes,  Franchises  and  Production 

of  Minerals 269,039     249,864 

33.  Regulation  of  Corporations  and  Sale  of  Personal 

Property 300,466     212,704 

34.  Double  LiabiUty  of  Stockholders  and  Inspec- 

tion of  Private  Banks 377,272     156,688 

35.  Regulating  State  Printing 319,612      192,378 

36.  Eligibility  of  Women  to  Certain  Offices 261,806     284,370 

37.  CivilService 306,767     204,580 

38.  Out-Door  Advertising 261,361      262,440 

39.  Methods  of  Submitting  Amendments  to  the 

Constitution 271,827     246,687 

40.  Municipal  Home  Rule 301,861     215,120 

41.  Schedule  of  Amendments 275,062     213,979 

For  License  to  Traffic  in  Intoxicating  Liquors 273,361 

Against  License  to  Traffic  in  Intoxicating  Liquors.  188,825 

Some  recent  Ohio  election  statistics  are  given  here  for  purposes  of 
comparison.  The  vote  for  governor  in  1908  was  1,125,054;  in  1910 
932  262. 

The  highest  vote  cast  on  any  amendment  was  586,295  on  woman's 
suffrage;  the  lowest,  462,186,  was  polled  on  the  Hquor  license  amend- 
ment. A  vigorous  campaign  was  waged  for  both  of  these.  It  will  be 
noted,  however,  that  the  aggregate  vote  on  the  latter  was  much  lower 
than  that  given  for  any  other  proposal.  It  stood  alone  at  the  head  of 
the  second  column  of  the  ballot,  and  many  voters  evidently,  after  fol- 
lowing down  the  column  to  No.  41,  thought  they  had  reached  the  end 
of  the  Ust  and  did  not  notice  the  Ucense  proposal  at  the  head  of  the 
next  column. 

Of  all  questions  considered,  the  initiative  and  referendum  was  most 
thoroughly  discussed  in  and  out  of  the  convention.    It  will  be  noted 


112  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

ment  that  was  adopted  was  carried  by  a  third  to  a 
quarter  of  the  voters  of  the  State  who  voted  for  gov- 
ernor in  1908.^  Constitutional  amendments  must  be 
submitted  to  the  people  and  always  have  been  in  the 
States,  but  it  is  monstrous  that  anything  less  than  a 

that  while  the  majority  for  this  prime  article  of  the  progressive  faith 
is  large,  it  is  exceeded  by  that  given  for  each  of  the  twenty-three  other 
proposals. 

Measures  accorded  a  high  vote  in  the  convention  were  not  always  so 
popular  with  the  electors  of  the  State.  The  amendment  receiving  the 
highest  majority  passed  the  convention  by  only  a  single  vote  more 
than  the  lowest  in  the  entire  series,  while  Nos.  24  and  36,  which  passed 
the  convention  almost  unanimously,  were  both  defeated. 

Attractive  titles  undoubtedly  helped  to  increase  the  majorities  m 
some  instances.     Amendment  No.  1  is  brief.     Following  is  the  full  text: 

"  The  right  of  trial  by  jury  shall  be  inviolate,  except  that,  in  civil 
cases,  laws  may  be  passed  to  authorize  the  rendering  of  a  verdict  by 
the  concurrence  of  not  less  than  three-fourths  of  the  jury." 

This  amendment  was  given  the  title  "Reform  in  Civil  Jury  System. 
"Reform"  in  these  progressive  times  is  peculiarly  attractive.  It  is  a 
case  in  which  a  rose  by  any  other  name  would  not  smell  quite  so  sweet. 
This  initial  word  probably  brought  a  few  thousand  votes  to  an  amend- 
ment that  would  certainly  have  carried  under  a  more  appropriate  title. 
In  this  class  should  be  included  No.  10,  "Welfare  of  Employees."  It 
provides  that  "laws  may  be  passed  fixing  and  regulating  the  hours  of 
labor,  establishing  a  minimum  wage  and  providing  for  the  health, 
comfort,  safety  and  general  welfare  of  employees."  In  this  instance 
also  the  title  helped  a  proposal  that  would  doubtless  have  carried  with 
a  more  explicit  designation. 

It  will  be  seen  that  eight  of  the  forty-two  proposals  failed  to  receive 
the  required  majority.  The  first  of  these  is  the  "Abolition  of  Capital 
Punishment."  The  old  doctrine  of  "an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth"  was  promulgated  effectively  in  the  convention  and  before 
the  people.  It  was  also  urged  that  under  existing  law  in  Ohio  the  jury 
may  recommend  mercy  and  thus  prevent  electrocution.  The  issue 
was  clearly  defined  and  the  result  fairly  represents  the  present  senti- 
ment of  the  State  on  this  subject.  There  are  evidences,  however,  that 
the  verdict  is  not  final  and  that  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  it  will 
be  reversed. 

To  the  surprise  of  the  most  careful  observers  No.  22,  providing  for 
the  regulation  of  contempt  proceedings  and  the  prohibition  of  injunc- 
tions in  controversies  involving  the  employment  of  labor,  was  lost. 
The  principle  embodied  in  this  amendment  has  been  advocated  for 
years  by  organized  labor. 

Woman's  suffrage  was  defeated  by  a  decisive  majority,  but  not  so 
large  proportionately  as  that  registered  against  the  reform  in  Oregon 
in  1910,  on  the  occasion  of  its  third  submission  to  the  electors  of  that 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  113 

majority  of  all  the  voters  should  be  able  to  adopt  a 
constitutional  amendment.  We  had  two  constitu- 
tional amendments,  of  no  great  importance,  submitted 
in  this  State  at  the  last  election.  Less  than  two-thirds, 
not  of  the  voters  but  of  those  who  came  to  the  polls, 

state  through  initiative  petition.  The  Uquor  interests  were  most 
active  in  opposing  this  amendment.  Unfortunately  the  opposition  to 
woman's  suffrage  adversely  affected  No.  36,  which  provided  for  the 
appointment  of  women  to  certain  offices  of  the  State  and  its  political 
subdivisions  "where  the  interests  and  care  of  women  and  children  are 
involved."  On  the  face  of  the  returns  the  electors  of  Ohio  have  evi- 
dently resolved  thoroughly  to  ehminate  women  from  participation  in 
pubhc  affairs. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  surprise  was  the  result  of  the  vote  on  No.  24, 
''Omitting  the  Word  'White.'"  The  Constitution  of  1851,  which  was 
adopted  before  the  emancipation  of  the  colored  race,  limited  the  elec- 
tive franchise  to  "every  white  male  citizen  of  the  United  States  of  the 
age  of  twenty-one  years."  The  word  "white"  still  remains  in  the 
Constitution,  although  it  was  made  of  no  effect  by  the  adoption  of  the 
fifteenth  amendment  to  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  The 
amendment  simply  sought  to  make  the  Constitution  of  Ohio  harmonize 
in  form  with  the  national  Constitution.  A  similar  amendment,  com- 
phcated,  it  is  true,  with  other  issues,  was  submitted  in  this  State  in  1867 
and  defeated.  Race  prejudice  is  evidently  still  strong  in  Ohio,  a  State 
that  in  1861-65  poured  forth  her  blood  freely  to  blot  out  an  invidious 
distinction  that  is  still  retained  in  her  Constitution. 

The  authorization  of  the  "Use  of  Voting  Machines"  was  defeated 
largely  through  the  strenuous  opposition  to  it  in  the  city  of  Cleveland, 
and  the  apprehension  in  rural  counties  that  the  innovation  would  in- 
volve needless  expense.  Perhaps  the  word  "machines"  had  for  some  a 
sinister  suggestion  that  increased  the  unfavorable  vote. 

Amendment  No.  29,  best  known  among  its  friends  as  the  "good 
roads"  proposal,  was  strongly  combated  in  the  convention  and  the 
opposition  was  carried  to  the  people.  The  heaviest  vote  against  it 
was  polled  by  the  farmers  of  the  counties  that  already  have  good 
roads.  Many  voters  in  the  cities  and  in  the  country  were  opposed  to 
raising  the  bond  limit  of  the  Constitution  for  any  purpose. 

The  last  in  the  hst  of  defeated  amendments  is  No.  38,  "Outdoor 
Advertising."  This  simply  sought  to  give  the  General  Assembly 
authority  to  regulate  outdoor  advertising,  especially  billboards,  which 
often  mar  the  beauty  of  cities  by  their  unsightly  displays.  The  bill- 
board companies  fought  the  amendment  and  thoroughly  circularized 
the  State  against  it.  They  succeeded  in  defeating  it  by  a  very  nar- 
row margin.  •     j     ,    • 

The  amendments  that  carried,  without  exception,  received  their 
large  majorities  in  the  large  cities  of  the  State.  The  country  vote  was 
light  and  conservative.  In  a  number  of  the  rural  counties  every  amend- 
ment was  voted  down. 


114  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

voted  on  them,  and  although  there  was  no  substantial 
opposition  to  either  yet  they  were  put  into  our  Consti- 
tution by  a  vote  which  was  less  than  half  of  the  votes 
cast  for  candidates.  I  could  go  on  and  give  you  case 
after  case  of  a  similar  character  and  they  prove  beyond 
the  possibility  of  doubt  that  the  compulsory  initiative 
and  referendum  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  device  to 
permit  interested  and  organized  minorities  to  govern. 
The  legislature  necessarily  represents  all  the  people, 
whether  voted  for  by  all  the  people  or  not,  and  is 
chosen  on  that  understanding,  but  the  minorities  of 
voters  to  which  we  are  asked  to  give  this  power  to 
compel  the  submission  and  the  adoption  of  laws,  in 
the  exercise  of  that  power  represent  nobody  but  them- 
selves. This  system  of  compulsory  initiative  and 
referendum  means  the  conversion  of  legislatures  into 
mere  machines  of  record  a!nd  the  destruction  of  repre- 
k  sentative  government.  Representative  government  is 
[  the  one  great  advance  in  the  methods  of  government 
I  which  has  been  made  in  modern  times.  Its  growth,  its 
development,  its  adoption  in  one  country  after  another 
have  been  coincident  with  the  advance  of  political 
freedom,  so  much  so  that  it  has  become  almost  synony- 
mous with  it.  The  first  care  of  every  autocrat,  of 
every  dictator,  of  every  man  who  has  seized  on  power 
for  himself  alone,  has  been  to  break  down  the  represent- 
ative body  or  to  reduce  it  to  a  form  and  a  ceremony. 
It  is  now  proposed  to  abandon  this  great  advance 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  115 

which  has  been  made  in  modern  times  and  return  to 
earlier  and  rejected  forms.  It  is  done  under  the  utterly 
false  cry  of  ''Let  the  people  rule.''  It  is  not  a  scheme 
to  let  the  people  rule;  that  is  found  in  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States.  It  is  a  scheme  to  enable  organ- 
ized minorities  of  voters  to  rule  and  through  the  de- 
vices of  the  law  get  possession  of  the  State. 
y  The  other  great  bulwark  of  freedom  has  been  the 
independent  court.  Until  the  last  few  years  a  man 
would  almost  have  hesitated  to  have  given  utterance 
to  such  a  truism,  and  now  it  is  proposed  to  take  from 
the  courts  their  independence.  It  makes  no  difference 
to  whom  a  court  is  subservient.  When  it  becomes 
subservient  to  anybody  outside  the  courtroom  — 
whether  that  influence  comes  from  the  king,  from 
money,  or  from  a  body  of  voters  —  that  court  is  a 
servile  court.  It  no  longer  interprets  the  law,  but  it 
declares  that  to  be  the  law  which  someone  else  wants. 
Justice  from  ancient  times  has  always  been  figured  as 
a  beautiful  woman,  with  bandaged  eyes,  holding  with 
steady  hand  the  scale  in  which  all  rights  and  wrongs 
are  weighed.  Those  who  now  assail  the  courts  would 
drag  her  from  her  high  throne  in  the  courtroom  and 
put  her  on  the  streets  to  solicit  support  from  the 
passions  of  men,  to  which  she  will  then  become  at 
once  the  victim  and  the  toy.  The  independent  ju- 
diciary of  the  United  States,  and  of  England,  too,  taken 
a^s  a  whole  and  allowing  for  all  the  failures  and  defects 


y 


116  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

incident  to  fallible  human  nature,  has  been  the  most 
potent  defence  and  protection  of  the  liberty  of  the  in- 
dividual man  and  of  the  rights  of  minorities  against 
the  oppression  of  majorities.  I  cannot  here  to-day 
argue  this  great  question  in  detail;  that  would  take 
hours  instead  of  minutes.  I  merely  point  out  to  you 
that  it  is  now  assailed  and  that  I  do  not  believe  that 
representative  government  and  judicial  independence, 
which  have  been  the  greatest  achievements  of  our  race 
in  its  battle  for  political  freedom,  have  suddenly  be- 
come dangerous  to  popular  government.  Mark  well 
that  all  this  agitation  is  directed  against  the  represent- 
ative and  judicial  branches  of  the  government.  I  find 
in  no  programme  any  attempt  to  limit  the  executive, 
and  it  is  logical  and  inevitable  that  this  should  be  the 
case.  Constitutional  government  moves  too  slowly  to 
suit  some  people  who  wish  to  convert  it  into  an  instru- 
ment for  the  quick  satisfaction  of  their  own  desires 
and  aspirations,  which  may  be  either  beneficial  or 
hurtful  to  the  people  at  large.  For  this  reason  they 
would  substitute  for  it  a  government  which  consists 
simply  of  the  voters  and  executive.  Go  back  fifty 
years  and  you  find  an  example  of  a  government  of 
that  sort  in  the  Third  Napoleon  with  his  empire  based 
on  the  plebiscite.  Abraham  Lincoln  declared  at 
Gettysburg  that  the  government  he  was  trying  to  pre- 
serve was  "a  government  of  the  people,  for  the  people, 
and  by  the  people,"  and  that  government  was  the 


THE  BILL 


OF  RIGHTS       I  117 


government  of  the  United  States  under  the  Constitu- 
tion. On  October  22,  1862;  Governor  Andrew,  writing 
to  Daniel  Henshaw  in  regard  to  the  conference  of  loyal 
governors  recently  held  at  Altoona,  said: 

In  conclusion  I  cannot  but  regret  the  tendency  I  observe  to 
obtrude  matters  mainly  personal  upon  the  attention  of  the 
people.  It  is  the  great  cause  of  Democratic,  constitutional, 
representative  government  which  is  now  on  trial. 

It  is  the  same  Constitution  now  as  it  was  then,  ex- 
cept for  the  war  amendments,  and  if  Abraham  Lincoln 
and  John  A.  Andrew  thought  that  it  was  a  government 
of  the  people  which  they  were  giving  their  lives  to 
save,  I  do  not  believe  that  any  of  us  need  be  disturbed 
if  we  find  ourselves  in  agreement  with  them.  Lincoln 
also  said,  in  his  first  inaugural: 

A  majority  held  in  restraint  by  constitutional  checks  and 
limitations,  and  always  changing  easily  with  deliberate  changes 
of  popular  opinions  and  sentiments,  is  the  only  tnite  sovereign 
of  a  free  people. 

You  observe  that  he  says  a  majority  under  "con- 
stitutional checks  and  limitations/^  He  draws  the 
distinction  between  government  by  the  people  and 
government  by  a  majority  of  the  voters.  I  have  al- 
ready pointed  out  the  great  gulf  fixed  between  those 
two  things,  and  the  proposition  which  now  confronts 
us  will,  if  carried  out,  break  down  government  by  the 
people,  which  is  secured  by  the  limitations  of  the 


118  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

Constitution,  and  give  us  over,  bound  and  helpless, 
to  the  action  of  a  majority  of  the  voters  appearing  at 
any  given  moment  —  voters  who  are  a  minority  of 
the  people  and  whose  majority  may  be  fleeting,  tem- 
porary, or  accidental.  It  was  against  this  precise 
situation  that  the  special  checks  and  limitations  which 
Lincoln  approved  were  devised  by  the  convention  over 
which  Washington  presided.  Let  me  bring  home  to 
you  just  what  I  mean  by  asking  your  attention  to  the 
first  ten  amendments  to  the  Constitution.  Those 
amendments  constitute  a  Bill  of  Rights.  They  have 
become  so  much  a  part  of  the  life  of  each  one  of  us 
that  we  think  no  more  of  them  than  of  the  air  we 
breathe.  Lest  we  forget,  let  me  recall  some  of  them 
to  you.  These  amendments  protect  every  man  in 
his  religion.  There  may  be  only  two  or  three  gathered 
together,  but  Congress  can  make  no  law  to  touch 
them.  They  are  secure  in  their  right  to  worship  God 
in  their  own  way.  Within  a  few  days  a  banner  has 
been  borne  through  the  streets  of  a  Massachusetts 
city  bearing  the  demand:  "No  God  —  No  Master." 
How  do  you  think  that  proposition  compares  with  the 
religious  freedom  guaranteed  to  one  and  all  by  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States? 

To  each  one  of  you  the  Bill  of  Rights  assures  freedom 
of  speech.  Into  the  third  and  fourth  amendments  our 
ancestors  put  the  principle  of  Coke's  great  declaration 
that  "the  house  of  every  man  is  to  him  as  his  castle 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  119 

and  fortress"  by  securing  each  one  of  us  against  the 
quartering  of  soldiers  and  against  unreasonable  seiz- 
ures and  search-warrants.    In  Article  V  it  is  provided 
that  no  man  shall  be  held  to  answer  for  a  capital  or 
otherwise  infamous  crime,  except  by  presentment  by 
a  grand  jury;  nor  be  subject  to  be  twice  put  in  jeopardy 
of  life  or  limb  for  the  same  offence;  nor  compelled  to  be 
a  witness  against  himself;  nor  deprived  of  life,  liberty, 
or  property  without  due  process  of  law;  and  that  no 
man's  private  property  shall  be  taken  for  public  use 
without  just  compensation.    Article  VI  secures  to  the 
accused  in  all  criminal  prosecutions  speedy  and  public 
trial  by  jury,  and  he  must  be  informed  of  the  nature 
and  cause  of  the  accusation.    He  shall  have  the  right 
to  be  confronted  with  the  witnesses  against  him  and 
to  have  compulsory  processes  for  obtaining  witnesses 
in  his  favor  and  the  assistance  of  counsel  in  his  de- 
fence.   By  Article  VII  the  right  of  trial  by  jury  is 
secured  to  every  one  where  the  value  in  the  contro- 
versy shall  exceed  twenty  dollars.    Article  VIII  pro- 
vides that  excessive  bail  shall  not  be  required,  nor 
excessive  fines  imposed,  nor  cruel  and  unusual  punish- 
ments inflicted. 

Think  of  what  those  provisions  mean.  They  defend 
and  protect  each  one  of  us  in  that  which  is  dearest  to 
us.  They  are  the  guardians  of  human  rights,  for  eveiy 
item  there  set  down  is  one  of  the  rights  of  men  and 
none  other.    Could  there  be  a  greater  misfortune  than 


120  THE  CONSTITUTION  AND 

to  have  these  famous  clauses  weakened,  broken,  muti- 
lated, or  destroyed  ?  Whose  rights  do  they  protect  — 
the  rights  of  majorities?  On  the  contrary,  they  are 
the  protection  of  the  individual  man  and  of  small 
minorities  of  men  against  the  power  of  majorities. 
AVho  are  to  interpret  those  provisions  and  say  whether 
the  laws  passed  by  a  majority  of  voters  infringe  or 
not  upon  these  great  guarantees  of  liberty?  The 
courts;  the  courts  alone  can  secure  us  in  the  rights 
which  the  Constitution  gives  us.  Get  rid  of  representa- 
tive government,  get  rid  of  the  courts,  and  you  find 
yourself  at  the  mercy  of  any  momentary  majority  of 
the  voters,  a  minority  of  the  people  —  usually  a  minor- 
ity fraction  of  all  the  voters  entitled  to  vote.  Your  life, 
your  liberty,  your  property,  are  left  at  the  discretion 
of  a  majority  of  the  voters,  which  may  be  accidental, 
fleeting,  temporary,  without  any  chance  for  that  second 
thought  or  that  appeal  to  another  tribunal  which  were 
secured  to  each  one  of  us  by  the  founders  of  the  Re- 
public. The  Constitution  is  not  a  law.  It  is  a  declara- 
tion of  principles.  The  effort  now  is  to  turn  it  into  a 
statute,  to  be  altered  by  the  whim  or  the  passion  of 
the  moment.  The  Constitution  guards  the  rights  of 
each  one  of  us,  no  matter  how  humble  or  how  poor.  I 
say  to  you  beware  how  you  allow  any  man  or  any  men 
to  lay  their  hands  upon  that  great  instrument.  It 
has  been  the  admiration  of  the  world.  We  have 
prospered  and  thriven  and  been  an  example  to  man- 


THE  BILL  OF  RIGHTS  121 

kind  under  its  beneficent  provisions  which  created  a 
self-Hmited  democracy,  something  which  until  that 
day  men  had  thought  impossible  of  accomplishment. 
Do  not  let  it  be  torn  down,  for  if  you  do  all  the  great 
advance  in  freedom  which  it  represents  will  perish 
and  we  shall  return  to  those  primitive  forms  of  govern- 
ment which  in  ancient  times  and  in  modern  times  as 
well  have  oscillated  between  anarchy  and  despotism, 
with  at  best  only  brief  intermissions  of  true  and  or- 
dered liberty. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  ^ 

In  his  History  of  Twenty-five  Years  Sir  Spencer 
Walpole  says:  "Yet,  perhaps,  of  all  the  men  born  to 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race  in  the  nineteenth  century,  Mr. 
Lincoln  deserves  the  highest  place  in  history.  No  man 
ever  rose  more  quickly  to  the  dignity  of  a  great  posi- 
tion. No  man  ever  displayed  more  moderation  in 
counsel,  or  more  resolution  in  administration,  or  held 
a  calmer  or  steadier  course.  Through  the  channel  of 
•difficulty  and  danger,  he  kept  his  rudder  true.''  ^  This 
is  high  praise,  but  I  think  that  we  may  go  a  step 
further.  As  the  nineteenth  century  recedes  into  the 
past  it  becomes  constantly  more  apparent  that  the 
three  great  events  of  that  period,  the  three  great  facts 
with  a  supreme  influence  upon  Western  civilization 
and  upon  the  world,  were  the  preservation  of  the 
American  Union,  the  consolidation  of  Germany,  and 
the  unification  of  Italy.  With  these  three  events  the 
names  of  three  men  are  indissolubly  associated  —  Lin- 
coln, Cavour,  and  Bismarck.  They  stand  forth  as 
embodying  the  cause  of  national  unity  in  the  United 
States,  in  Italy,  and  in  Germany.    They  were  the 

^  Address  to  the  students  of  Boston  University  School  of  Law,  March 
14,  1913. 
2  History  of  Twenty-five  Years,  Vol.  11,  p.  65. 

122 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      123 

leaders,  the  directing  minds  in  the  mighty  conflicts 
which  produced  the  great  results,  and  they  loom  ever 
larger  and  more  distinct,  as  the  years  pass  by,  like  high 
mountain  peaks,  which  at  a  distance  separate  them- 
selves from  the  confused  masses  of  the  range  from 
which  they  rise.    I  have  mentioned  these  three  com- 
manding iigures  in  the  order  in  which,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  they  stand,  and  as  I  think  they  will  stand  when 
the  final  account  is  made  up.    But  comparisons  are 
needless.    The  greatness  of  Abraham  Lincoln  is  ad- 
mitted by  the  world  and  his  place  in  history  is  assured. 
Yet  to  us  he  has  a  significance  and  an  importance 
which  he  cannot  have  to  other  people.    It  is  impossible 
to  translate  a  beautiful  poem  without  losing  in  some 
degree  the  ineffable  quality,  the  final  perfection  which 
it  possesses  in  the  language  in  which  it  was  written. 
In  its  native  speech  the  verse  is  wedded  to  the  form 
and  to  the  words  and  has  tones  in  its  voice  which  only 
those  who  are  "to  the  manner  born"  can  hear.    So 
Lincoln,  whose  life,  rightly  considered,  was  a  poem, 
speaks  to  his  own  people  as  he  does  to  no  other.  What 
he  was,  and  what  he  did  and  said,  is  all  part  of  our 
national  life  and  of  our  thoughts  as  well.    We  see  m 
him  the  man  who  led  in  the  battle  which  resulted  m 
a  united  country  and  we  have  watched  his  crescent 
fame  as  it  has  mounted  ever  higher  with  the  mcessant 
examination  of  his  life  and  character.    No  record  has 
ever  leaped  to  light  by  which  he  could  be  shamed. 


124     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Apart  from  all  comparisons  it  is  at  least  certain  that 
he  is  the  greatest  figm-e  yet  produced  by  modern  de- 
mocracy which  began  its  onward  march  at  the  little 
bridge  in  Concord.  If  ever  a  man  lived  who  under- 
stood and  loved  the  people  to  whom  he  gave  his  life, 
Lincoln  was  that  man.  In  him  no  one  has  a  monopoly; 
he  is  not  now  the  property  of  any  sect  or  any  party. 
His  fame  is  the  heritage  of  the  people  of  the  United 
States  and;  as  Stanton  said,  standing  by  his  deathbed, 
"He  belongs  to  the  ages.'' 

For  all  these  reasons,  it  seems  to  me,  in  these  days 
of  agitation  and  disquiet,  when  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples upon  which  our  government  rests  and  has  always 
rested  are  assailed,  that  nothing  could  be  more  profit- 
able and  more  enlightening  than  to  know  just  what 
Lincoln's  opinions  were  as  to  democracy  and  the  true 
principles  of  free  government.  I  am  well  aware  that 
objection  may  be  made  to  Lincoln,  as  an  authority 
for  our  guidance,  of  the  same  character  as  the  one 
brought  against  the  framers  of  the  Constitution,  which 
is  that  he  died  nearly  half  a  century  ago  and  that, 
therefore,  however  excellent  he  was  in  his  own  day  and 
generation,  he  is  now  out  of  date  as  a  guide  in  public 
questions  because  all  conditions  have  so  completely 
changed.  It  is  quite  tme  that  Lincoln,  like  Washing- 
ton, never  saw  a  telephone,  an  automobile,  or  a  flying- 
machine,  and  that  economic  conditions  as  well  as  those 
of  business  and  finance  have  been  radically  altered 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      125 

since  his  day.  But  this  is  really  an  inept  objection 
because  the  subject  upon  which  we  seek  to  know  his 
thoughts  concerns  the  relation  of  human  nature  to 
certain  forms  and  principles  of  government  among 
men,  most  of  which  were  as  familiar  to  the  speculations 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle  as  they  are  to  us;  some  of  which 
are  older  than  recorded  history  while  the  very  young- 
est have  been  known^  discussed,  and  experimented 
with  for  centuries.  So  I  think  we  may  dismiss  the 
suggestion  that  Lincoln  is  antiquated  and  realize  that 
upon  the  principles  of  free  government  and  the  capa- 
bilities of  human  beings  in  that  direction  he  is  an 
authority  as  ancient  as  the  Greek  philosophers  and  as 
modern  as  the  last  young  orator  who  has  just  dis- 
covered that  this  very  comparative  world  is  not  ab- 
stractly and  ideally  perfect. 

What;  then,  were  the  thoughts  and  opinions  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  to  the  principles  upon  which  free 
and  ordered  popular  government  should  rest?  He 
alone  can  tell  us.  No  one  is  vested  with  authority 
to  proclaim  to  us  what  Lincoln  thought  or  beheved 
upon  any  subject.  There  is  no  high  priest  at  that 
altar  to  utter  oracles  which  no  one  else  can  question 
and  which  he  alone  can  inteipret.  Lincoln's  convic- 
tions and  opinions  are  to  be  found  in  only  one  place, 
in  his  own  speeches  and  writings  which,  like  his  fame, 
belong  to  his  countrymen  and  to  mankind.  Fortu- 
nately we  need  not  grope  about  to  discover  his  meaning. 


126  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Few  men  who  have  ever  Hved  and  played  a  command- 
ing part  in  the  world  have  had  the  power  of  expressing 
their  thoughts  with  greater  clearness  or  in  a  style 
more  pellucid  and  direct  than  Lincoln.  Of  him  it  may 
truly  be  said  that  his  statements  are  demonstrations. 
You  will  search  far  before  you  will  find  a  man  who 
could  state  a  proposition  more  irresistibly,  leaving  no 
avenue  of  escape,  or  who  could  use  a  more  relentless 
logic  than  the  President  of  the  Civil  War.  We  feel 
as  we  read  his  life  that  he  had  in  him  the  nature  of  a 
poet,  the  imagination  which  pertains  to  the  poetic 
nature  and  which  was  manifested  not  only  in  what  he 
said  and  did  but  in  his  intuitive  sympathy  with  all 
sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  Combined  with  these 
attributes  of  the  poetic  genius,  which  is  as  rare  as  it 
is  impalpable,  were  qualities  seldom  found  in  that  con- 
nection. He  was  an  able  lawyer  and  had  the  intel- 
lectual methods  of  the  trained  legal  mind.  He  was 
also  the  practical  man  of  affairs,  as  well  as  the  great 
statesman,  looking  at  facts  with  undazzled  eyes  and 
moulding  men  and  events  to  suit  his  purpose.  There 
is  no  occasion  for  guesswork,  assertion,  or  speculation 
in  regard  to  him  when  he  turned  away  from  the  visions 
of  the  imagination  to  confront  and  deal  with  the  hard 
problems  of  life  and  government,  never  to  any  man 
harder  than  they  were  to  him. 

Let  us  then  examine  his  writings  and  speeches  and 
see  what  light  they  throw  upon  the  questions  now  sub- 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      127 

ject  to  public  discussion,  which  relate  to  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States  and  to  the  principles  upon 
which  that  great  instrument  was  based. 

Let  me  remind  you  at  the  outset  that  I  am  going  to 
deal  only  with  the  fundamental  principles  of  govern- 
ment embodied  in  the  Constitution  and  not  at  all 
with  the  many  provisions  which  simply  establish  the 
machinery  or  mechanism  of  government.  It  is  im- 
portant to  keep  this  distinction  in  mind  for  it  is  fre- 
quently lost  sight  of  and  the  ensuing  confusion  is 
deleterious  to  intelligent  comprehension.  The  mechan- 
ism of  government  may  be  very  important  and  a  change 
in  it  may  be  either  beneficent  or  unfortunate,  but  it 
is  not  vital,  whereas,  if  the  fundamental  principles  are 
altered,  weakened,  or  abandoned  the  whole  structure 
will  come  crashing  to  the  ground.  For  example:  to 
change  the  method  of  electing  senators  may  be  harm- 
ful or  beneficial  but  it  is  only  a  change  of  mechanism. 
But  to  abandon  the  equal  representation  of  the  States 
in  the  Senate  is  a  vital  and  destructive  change  of  prin- 
ciple, for  the  extinction  of  the  States  would  mean  the 
extinction  of  our  governmental  system  and  would  in- 
volve in  its  ruin  the  basic  principle  of  local  self-govern- 
ment. The  number  of  judges  in  the  Supreme  Court 
is  a  matter  of  machinery  and  expediency.  But  the 
appointment  and  tenure  of  those  judges  embody  prin- 
ciples which  go  to  the  very  root  of  all  ordered  and 
stable  government. 


128     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

It  is  on  questions  of  principle  alone  that  I  would 
seek  to  learn  the  opinions  of  Lincoln,  and  before  enter- 
ing upon  that  inquiry  let  me  define  the  questions  upon 
which  it  seems  to  me  well  that  we  should  seek  his 
guidance  at  this  time.  They  are  two  in  number  — 
representative  government  as  involved  in  the  agitation 
in  favor  of  the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum, 
and  the  independence  of  the  courts  which  is  at  stake 
in  the  demand  for  the  recall  of  judges  and  the  review 
of  judicial  decisions  by  popular  vote.  In  an  attempt 
to  set  forth  Lincoln's  opinions  upon  these  questions 
it  would  be  impossible  to  consider  the  arguments  for 
or  against  these  two  propositions,  for  each  one  by  itself 
requires  a  discussion  of  great  length  and  elaboration. 
I  shall  make  no  effort  to  show  that  the  compulsory 
initiative  and  referendum,  so  loudly  demanded  in  the 
name  of  the  people,  is  in  essence  a  plan  to  secure  not 
the  rule  of  the  people  but  arbitrary  government  by 
small,  highly  organized,  and  irresponsible  minorities 
of  voters.  Nor  shall  I  try  to  show  that  the  judicial 
recall  and  the  review  of  judicial  decisions  by  popular 
vote  would  not  only,  like  the  compulsory  initiative 
and  referendum,  establish  the  power  of  highly  organized 
minorities  among  the  voters  but  would  also  give  us 
servile  and  subservient  courts  controlled  by  an  out- 
side force  and  therefore  incapable  of  honestly  inter- 
preting the  law  and  doing  justice  between  man  and 
man.    I  will,  however,  pause  long  enough  to  point  out 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      129 

that  both  schemes  lead  consciously  or  unconsciously 
to  the  same  result.    If  successful  they  would  bring  us 
to  a  government  composed  of  the  executive  and  the 
voters.    It  is  inevitable  that  this  should  be  the  case, 
for  if  you  reduce  to  impotency  the  representative  and 
judicial  branches  of  the  government  nothing  remains 
but  the  executive  and  the  voters.    The  last  conspicuous 
example  of  this  kind  of  government  was  the  second 
empire  in  France.    By  a  vote  of  over  seven  millions 
to  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Napoleon  was  made 
emperor.    On  May  8,  1870,  his  constitutional  changes, 
continuing  the  empire  on  a  more  liberal  basis,  were 
sustained  by  a  vote  of  over  seven  millions  to  a  million 
and  a  half,  and  within  six  months  after  this  immense 
expression  of  popular  approval  his  empire  had  crumbled 
into  ruins  and  he  was  himself  a  prisoner  in  Germany. 
The  result  of  this  form  of  direct  democracy  was  not 
happy  in  that  instance,  at  least.    And  at  bottom  the 
question  is  between  direct  democracy  on  the  one  hand 
and  self-limited  democracy  on  the  other.    The  first 
is  very  old,  the  second  very  new,  dating  on  a  large 
scale  at  least  only  from  our  own  Constitution  of  1787, 
which  Lord  Acton  speaks  of  as  an  achievement  in  the 
way  of  self-limitation  which  men  had  up  to  that  time 
regarded  as  impossible.    I  have  no  intention  of  dis- 
cussing the  merits  or  demerits  of  the  two  systems,  but 
the  fact  that  direct  democracy  is  old  and  our  self- 
limited  democracy  is  new  must  not  be  forgotten.  When 


130     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

it  is  proposed  to  emasculate  representative  govern- 
ment, as  was  done  by  the  Third  Napoleon,  or  to  take 
from  the  courts  their  independence,  it  may  be  a  change 
for  the  better,  as  its  advocates  contend,  because  almost 
anything  human  is  within  the  bounds  of  possibility, 
but  it  is  surely  and  beyond  any  doubt  a  return  from  a 
highly  developed  to  a  simpler  and  more  primitive  stage 
of  thought  and  government.  A  system  of  government 
which  consists  of  executive  and  people  is  probably  the 
very  first  ever  attempted  by  men.  Among  gregarious 
animals  we  find  the  herd  and  its  leader,  and  that  was 
the  first  form  of  government  among  primitive  men,  if 
we  m.ay  trust  the  evidence  of  those  tribes  still  extant 
in  a  low  state  of  savagery  who  alone  can  give  us  an 
idea  of  the  social  and  political  condition  of  prehis- 
toric man.  Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  in  Custom  and  Myth, 
to  illustrate  a  very  different  subject,  says  (page  237) : 

Even  among  those  democratic  paupers,  the  Fuegians,  "the 
doctor-wizard  of  each  party  has  much  influence  over  his  com- 
panions." Among  those  other  democrats,  the  Eskimo,  a  class 
of  wizards,  called  Angakuts,  become  "a  kind  of  civil  magis- 
trates" because  they  can  cause  fine  weather,  and  can  magically 
detect  people  who  commit  offences.  Thus  the  germs  of  rank, 
in  these  cases,  are  sown  by  the  magic  which  is  fetichism  in 
action.  Try  the  Zulus:  "The  heaven  is  the  chief's";  he  can 
call  up  clouds  and  storms,  hence  the  sanction  of  his  authority. 
In  New  Zealand,  every  Rangatira  has  a  supernatural  power. 
If  he  touches  an  article,  no  one  else  dares  to  approach  it,  for 
fear  of  terrible  supernatural  consequences.  A  head  chief  is 
"tabued  an  inch  thick,  and  perfectly  unapproachable."    Mag- 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      131 

ical  power  abides  in  and  emanates  from  him.  By  this  super- 
stition, an  aristocracy  is  formed  and  property  (the  property, 
at  least,  of  the  aristocracy)  is  secured.  Among  the  Red  In- 
dians, as  Schoolcraft  says,  "priests  and  jugglers  are  the  only 
persons  that  make  war  and  have  a  voice  in  the  sale  of  the 
land."  Mr.  E.  W.  Robertson  says  much  the  same  thing  about 
early  Scotland.  If  Odin  was  not  a  god  with  the  gifts  of  a  medi- 
cine-man and  did  not  owe  his  chiefship  to  his  talent  for  dealing 
with  magic,  he  is  greatly  maligned.  The  Irish  Brehons  also 
sanctioned  legal  decisions  by  magical  devices,  afterward  con- 
demned by  the  Church.  Among  the  Zulus  "  the  Itonyo  (spirit) 
dwells  with  the  great  man;  he  who  dreams  is  the  chief  of  the 
village."  The  chief  alone  can  "  read  in  the  vessel  of  divination." 
The  Kaneka  chiefs  are  medicine-men. 

The  chiefs  here  described  derive  their  authority 
from  the  popular  beHef  in  their  magic  powers,  but  the 
germ  of  government  which  is  apparent  is  that  of  peo- 
ple and  executive.  Out  of  these  wizards  and  medicine- 
men, these  chiefs  protected  by  the  "tabu,''  came  the 
king,  as  Mr.  Frazer  shows  in  his  Early  History  of  the 
Kingship.  The  machinery  was  constantly  elaborated 
and  perfected  as  the  centuries  passed  and  the  king 
steadily  absorbed  more  power,  as  was  inevitable,  but 
the  system  remained  in  essence  the  executive  and  the 
people.  On  the  other  hand,  we  may  study  experi- 
ments in  direct  democracy  in  Athens  and  in  Rome  more 
than  two  thousand  years  ago  and  at  a  later  time  in 
some  of  the  mediaeval  Italian  cities.  This  examina- 
tion will  reveal  the  fact  that  representative  govern- 
ment on  a  large  scale  is  a  modern  development  originat- 


132      THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

ing  in  England,  and  also  that  while  the  people  began 
long  ago  to  place  limitations  on  the  once  unrestrained 
power  of  the  crown  or  the  kingship ,  it  was  in  our  Con- 
stitution that  a  people  for  the  first  time  put  limitations 
upon  themselves,  which  has  hitherto  been  considered 
an  evidence  of  unusual  intelligence  and  of  a  high 
civilization.  I  have  ventured  upon  this  digression 
because  it  seems  to  me  important  to  emphasize  the 
fact  that  these  efforts  to  get  rid  of  representative  gov- 
ernment and  the  independence  of  the  judiciary,  whether 
good  or  bad,  are  not  attempts  to  advance  from  what  we 
now  have  but  to  revert  to  earlier  and  more  primitive 
forms  of  social  and  political  organizations.  This 
point  of  reversion  to  earlier  forms  so  far  as  it  relates 
to  the  courts  has  never  been  more  vividly  and  strongly 
stated  than  by  Mr.  Roosevelt  in  an  article  upon  the 
vice-presidential  candidates  which  he  contributed  to 
the  Review  of  Reviews  in  November,  1896  (page  295) : 

The  men  who  object  to  what  they  style  "government  by  in- 
junction" are  as  regards  the  essential  principles  of  government 
in  hearty  sympathy  with  their  remote  skin-clad  ancestors 
who  lived  in  caves,  fought  one  another  with  stone-headed  axes, 
and  ate  the  mammoth  and  woolly  rhinoceros.  They  are  in- 
teresting as  representing  a  geological  survival,  but  they  are 
dangerous  whenever  there  is  the  least  chance  of  their  making 
the  principles  of  this  ages-buried  past  living  factors  in  our 
present  life.  They  are  not  in  sympathy  with  men  of  good 
minds  and  sound  civic  morality.  .  .  . 

Furthermore,  the  Chicago  convention  attacked  the  Supreme 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      133 

Court.  Again  this  represents  a  species  of  atavism  —  that  is, 
of  recurrence  to  the  ways  of  thought  of  remote  barbarian  an- 
cestors. Savages  do  not  like  an  independent  and  upright 
judiciary.  They  want  the  judge  to  decide  their  way,  and  if 
he  does  not,  they  want  to  behead  him.  The  Populists  experi- 
ence much  the  same  emotions  when  they  realize  that  the  ju- 
diciary stands  between  them  and  plunder. 

Let  US  now  examine  what  Lincoln  said  or  wrote  and 
try  to  determine  whether  he  stood  for  the  new  or  the 
old,  for  self-limited  or  for  direct  and  unlimited  democ- 
racy with  especial  reference  to  the  two  points  of  gov- 
ernment by  representation  and  judicial  independence. 
On  one  most  memorable  occasion  Lincoln  told  the 
world  what  the  government  was  for  which  the  people 
whom  he  led  were  pouring  out  their  treasure  and  offer- 
ing up  their  lives.  I  will  not  use  my  own  words  to  de- 
scribe what  he  then  said  but  those  of  an  impartial 
English  historian: 

One  of  them  (these  "beautiful  cemeteries ")»  on  the  field  of 
Gettysburg,  will  be  near  to  Anglo-Saxons  for  all  time,  because 
it  inspired  the  famous  two  minutes'  speech  which  is,  perhaps, 
the  most  perfect  example  in  our  language  of  what  such  a  speech 
on  such  an  occasion  should  be.^ 

I  will  read  to  you  the  Gettysburg  speech  thus  char- 
acterized by  Sir  Spencer  Walpole.  Only  a  portion 
relates  to  our  subject,  but  that  speech  cannot  be  read 

iThe  History  of  Twenty-five  Years."  By  Sir  Spencer  Walpole. 
Vol.  11,  p.  67. 


134     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

or  repeated  too  often  by  Americans  and  there  never 
has  been  a  time  since  the  hour  of  its  utterance  when 
it  should  be  more  reverently  and  thoughtfully  pon- 
dered by  all  who  love  their  country  than  in  these  d&js 
now  passing  over  us.  It  was  on  the  19th  of  November, 
1863,  a  little  more  than  four  months  after  the  great 
battle,  that  Lincoln  spoke  as  follows  in  dedicating  the 
National  Cemetery  at  Gettysburg: 

Fourscore  and  seven  years  ago  our  fathers  brought  forth  on 
this  continent  a  new  nation,  conceived  in  liberty,  and  dedicated 
to  the  proposition  that  all  men  are  created  free  and  equal. 

Now  we  are  engaged  in  a  great  civil  war,  testing  whether  that 
nation,  or  any  nation  so  conceived  and  so  dedicated,  can  long 
endure.  We  are  met  on  a  great  battlefield  of  that  war.  We 
have  come  to  dedicate  a  portion  of  that  field  as  the  final  resting- 
place  for  those  who  here  gave  their  lives  that  the  nation  might 
live.     It  is  altogether  fitting  and  proper  that  we  should  do  this. 

But,  in  a  larger  sense,  we  cannot  dedicate  —  we  cannot  con- 
secrate —  we  cannot  hallow  this  ground.  The  brave  men, 
living  and  dead,  who  struggled  here  have  consecrated  it  far 
above  our  poor  power  to  add  or  detract.  The  world  will  little 
note  nor  long  remember  what  we  say  here,  but  it  can  never 
forget  what  they  did  here.  It  is  for  us,  the  living,  rather,  to 
be  dedicated  here  to  the  unfinished  work  which  they  who  fought 
here  have  thus  far  so  nobly  advanced.  It  is  rather  for  us  to 
be  here  dedicated  to  the  great  task  remaining  before  us  —  that 
from  these  honored  dead  we  take  increased  devotion  to  that 
cause  for  which  they  gave  the  last  full  measure  of  devotion; 
that  we  here  highly  resolve  that  these  dead  shall  not  have  died 
in  vain;  that  this  nation,  under  God,  shall  have  a  new  birth  of 
freedom;  and  that  government  of  the  people,  by  the  people, 
for  the  people  shall  not  perish  from  the  earth. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      135 

The  last  sentence  is  the  one  which  concerns  us  here. 
What  government  did  he  refer  to  in  those  closing  lines 
as  the  one  for  which  the  soldiers  died  and  to  the  preser- 
vation of  which  he  asked  his  countrymen  to  dedicate 
themselves?  It  was  the  government  of  the  United 
States.  It  could  have  been  no  other.  His  own  title 
was  President  of  the  United  States;  the  uniform  which 
the  soldiers  wore  and  the  flag  they  followed  were  the 
uniform  and  the  flag  of  the  United  States  of  America. 
He  defined  this  government  to  which  he  gave  his  life 
as  a  "government  of  the  people,  by  the  people  and 
for  the  people."  This  famous  definition,  familiar  in 
our  mouths  as  household  words,  was  applied  to  the 
government  of  the  United  States  as  created,  estab- 
lished, and  conducted  by  and  under  the  Constitution 
adopted  in  1789.  With  the  exception  of  the  three 
war  amendments,  and  that  just  adopted  establishing 
the  income  tax,  it  is  the  same  Constitution  and  the 
same  government  to-day  that  it  w^as  in  November, 
1863.  Lincoln  thought  it  a  popular  government.  He 
did  not  regard  it  as  a  government  by  a  president,  or 
by  a  congress,  or  by  judges,  but  as  a  government  of, 
by  and  for  the  people,  and  in  his  usual  fashion  he 
stated  his  proposition  so  clearly  and  with  such  finality 
that  there  is  no  escape  from  his  meaning.  We  might 
w^ell  be  contented  to  stop  here  and,  accepting  Lincoln's 
definition,  stand  upon  his  broad  assertion  of  the  char- 
acter of  our  government  and  look  with  suspicion  upon 


136  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

those  who,  in  the  name  of  the  people,  seek  to  tear  down 
that  Constitution  which  has  given  us  what  he  declared 
to  be,  in  the  fullest  sense,  a  government  of  the  people. 
But  it  is  neither  necessary  nor  desirable  to  stop  with 
the  Gettysburg  speech,  for  it  is  important  to  learn,  if 
we  can,  in  more  detail  what  Lincoln  thought  of  the 
limitations  established  by  the  Constitution  with  espe- 
cial reference  to  the  principle  of  representation  and  the 
power  of  the  courts.  Veiy  early  in  his  career,  when  he 
was  not  yet  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  he  said  in  an 
address  before  the  Young  Men's  Lyceum  at  Spring- 
field, Illinois,  on  January  27,  1837: 

We  find  ourselves  under  the  government  of  a  system  of 
political  institutions  conducing  more  essentially  to  the  ends  of 
civil  and  religious  liberty  than  any  of  which  the  history  of 
former  times  tells  us.  .  .  .  Theirs  was  the  task  (and  nobly 
they  performed  it)  to  possess  themselves,  and  through  them- 
selves us,  of  this  goodly  land,  and  to  uprear  upon  its  hills  and 
its  valleys  a  political  edifice  of  liberty  and  equal  rights;  'tis 
ours  only  to  transmit  these  —  the  former  unprofaned  by  the 
foot  of  an  invader,  the  later  undecayed  by  the  lapse  of  time 
and  untorn  by  usurpation  —  to  the  latest  generation  that  fate 
shall  permit  the  world  to  know.  .  .  . 

At  what  point,  then,  is  the  approach  to  danger  to  be  ex- 
pected ?  I  answer:  If  it  ever  reach  us,  it  must  spring  up  among 
us;  it  cannot  come  from  abroad.  If  destruction  be  our  lot,  we 
must  ourselves  be  its  author  and  finisher.  As  a  nation  of  free- 
men we  must  live  through  all  time,  or  die  by  suicide. 

In  these  sentences  we  see  at  once  that  the  great 
style  of  the  Gettysburg  address  and  of  the  second 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      137 

inaugural  is  still  undeveloped,  that  the  power  of  ex- 
pression so  remarkable  in  later  years  has  not  yet  been 
found;  but  the  conviction  as  to  the  character  of  our 
government,  which  attained  its  final  form  at  Gettys- 
burg, is  here  and  the  closing  words  warning  us  that 
destruction  of  our  government  can  come  only  from 
ourselves  demand  our  attention  now  as  insistently  as 
when  they  were  uttered  by  an  obscure  young  man  in 
Illinois  looking  far  into  the  future  only  to  be  passed 
over  unheeded  by  a  careless  world. 

Such  then  was  Lincoln's  belief  in  the  character  of 
our  government  at  the  outset  of  life  and  such  it  con- 
tinued to  the  end,  as  I  shall  show  later.  Upon  the  two 
particular  points  which  we  have  now  under  considera- 
tion he  had,  owing  to  the  circumstances  of  his  time, 
a  good  deal  to  say  about  the  courts  and  very  little  in 
express  form  about  representative  government,  be- 
cause nobody  in  his  day  questioned  the  representative 
system.  But  representative  government  rests  upon 
certain  broad  principles  in  regard  to  which  Lincoln 
spoke  clearly  and  decisively.  The  basic  theory  of 
representative  government  is  that  the  representative 
body  represents  all  the  people,  and  that  a  majority 
of  that  body  represents  a  majority  of  all  the  people. 
To  the  majority  in  Congress  the  power  of  action  is 
committed,  and  it  is  so  guarded  as  to  exclude  so  far  as 
human  ingenuity  can  do  it  any  opportunity  for  the 
control  of  the  government  by  an  organized  minority 


138  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

either  among  the  voters  or  their  representatives.  It 
is  these  very  provisions  for  securing  majority  rule 
which  have  led  to  the  development  of  such  devices  as 
the  compulsory  initiative  and  referendum  in  order  that 
organized  minorities  may  gain  a  power  of  control  which 
they  could  not  obtain  under  a  purely  representative 
government. 

Having  thus  established  majority  rule  through  the 
representative  system,  the  framers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion with  their  deep-rooted  distrust  of  uncontrolled 
power  anywhere,  then  proceeded  to  put  limitations  upon 
the  power  of  the  majority.  They  were  well  aware 
that  a  majority  of  the  voters  at  any  given  moment  did 
not  necessarily  represent  the  enduring  will  of  the 
people.  They  knew  equally  well  that  in  the  end  the 
real  will  of  the  people  must  be  absolute,  but  they  de- 
sired that  there  should  be  room  for  deliberation  and 
for  second  thought  and  that  the  rights  of  minorities 
and  of  individuals  should  be  so  far  as  possible  pro- 
tected and  secured.  Hence  the  famous  limitations  of 
the  Constitution.  I  need  not  rehearse  them  all;  the 
most  vital  are  those  embodied  in  the  first  ten  amend- 
ments which  constitute  a  bill  of  rights,  the  rights  of 
men,  or  human  rights,  and  any  violation  of  those 
rights  is  forbidden  to  Congress  and  to  the  majority. 
As  further  restraints  upon  the  majority  they  gave  the 
executive  a  veto,  which  raised  the  necessary  majority 
for  action  to  two-thirds,  while  upon  the  courts  they 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      139 

conferred,  by  implication,  opportunity  to  declare,  in 
specific  cases,  any  law  to  be  in  violation  of  the  general 
principles  laid  down  by  the  Constitution. 

Upon  this  first  point  of  the  limitation  upon  the 
majority,  whether  of  voters  or  representatives,  which 
is  the  essence  of  our  constitutional  system  of  repre- 
sentation, Lincoln  spoke  in  a  manner  which  cannot  be 
misunderstood.    He  said  in  the  first  inaugural: 

If  by  the  mere  force  of  numbers  a  majority  should  deprive  a 
minority  of  any  clearly  written  constitutional  right,  it  might, 
in  a  moral  point  of  view,  justify  revolution  —  certainly  would 
if  such  a  right  were  a  vital  one.  But  such  is  not  the  case.  All 
the  vital  rights  of  minorities  and  of  individuals  are  so  plainly 
assured  to  them  by  affirmations  and  negations,  guarantees  and 
prohibitions,  in  the  Constitution,  that  controversies  never 
arise  concerning  them.  .  .  . 

A  majority  held  in  restraint  by  constitutional  checks  and 
limitations,  and  always  changing  easily  with  deliberate  changes 
of  popular  opinions  and  sentiments,  is  the  only  true  sovereign 
of  a  free  people. 

Nothing  could  be  clearer  than  these  sentences.  In 
Lincoln's  opinion  the  violation  of  a  vital  constitutional 
right  was  moral  justification  for  revolution,  and  the 
last  sentence  gives  a  definition  of  free  and  real  popular 
government  upon  which  it  would  be  difficult  indeed  to 
improve. 

I  have  just  said  that  one  of  the  checks  placed  upon 
the  power  of  the  majority  was  the  opportunity  which 
of  necessity  devolved  upon  the  courts  to  declare,  when 


140     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

a  specific  case  was  brought  before  them,  their  opinion 
that  the  law  involved  in  the  suit  was  in  violation  of 
the  Constitution.  It  is  this  judicial  power,  asserted 
by  Marshall,  which  has  led  to  the  present  move- 
ment to  destroy  the  independence  of  the  courts  by 
subjecting  the  judges  to  the  recall  and  their  decisions 
to  review  at  the  ballot-box.  On  this  point  Lincoln 
spoke  often  and  with  great  elaboration.  He  did  so 
because  the  famous  Dred  Scott  case  was  a  very 
burning  issue  in  the  years  immediately  preceding  the 
Civil  War.  If  an  opinion  was  ever  delivered  by  a 
court  which  justified  resistance  to  or  an  attack  upon 
the  judicial  authority  it  was  that  one  known  by  the 
name  of  a  poor  negro  —  Dred  Scott.  The  opinion 
against  which  the  conscience  of  men  revolted  did  not 
decide  the  case.  It  was  an  obiter  dictum.  It  was 
delivered  solely  for  the  purpose  of  settling  a  great 
political  question  by  pronouncement  from  the  Supreme 
Court.  There  was  no  disguise  as  to  what  was  in- 
tended. Mr.  Buchanan,  informed  as  to  what  was 
coming  after  his  arrival  in  Washington,  announced  in 
his  inaugural  that  the  question  of  slavery  in  the  ter- 
ritories would  soon  be  disposed  of  by  the  Supreme 
Court.  The  wise  practice  of  the  Supreme  Court  is  to 
decline  jurisdiction  of  political  questions,  holding  that 
such  questions  belong  solely  to  Congress  and  the 
executive.  In  this  case  the  court  deliberately  travelled 
outside  the  record  in  order  to  speak  upon  a  purely 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      141 

political  question  which  then  divided  the  whole  coun- 
try. For  such  action  there  is  no  defence.  Born  of 
the  passions  of  the  slavery  contest,  the  Dred  Scott  case 
stands  in  our  history  as  a  flagrant  attempt  by  the  Su- 
preme Court  to  usurp  power.  There  has  been  noth- 
ing like  it  before  or  since.  The  lesson  of  that  gigantic 
blunder  was  learned  thoroughly  and  will  never  be  for- 
gotten by  the  court  at  least.  The  attack  upon  the 
dictum  of  the  court  began  with  the  masterly  dissenting 
opinion  of  Mr.  Justice  Curtis,  which  wrecked  Taney's 
argument  both  in  the  law  and  the  facts.  From  the 
courtroom  the  attack  spread  over  the  country  and  the 
utterances  of  the  chief  justice  were  assailed  with  all 
the  bitterness  characteristic  of  that  period  and  de- 
fended with  equal  fervor  by  those  who  supported 
slavery  and  who  declared  that  a  refusal  to  accept  the 
decision  was  tantamount  to  treason.  Lincoln,  as  one 
of  the  leaders  of  the  new  Republican  party,  was  obliged 
to  deal  with  it.  He  did  so  fully  and  thoroughly.  All 
that  he  said  deserves  careful  study,  for  there  is  no  more 
admirable  analysis  of  the  powers  of  the  courts  and  of 
the  attitude  which  should  be  taken  in  regard  to  them. 
I  shall  make  no  excuse  for  quoting  what  he  said,  at 
length,  and  I  may  add  that  his  utterances  on  this  great 
question  require  neither  explanation  nor  commentary 
from  me  or  any  one  else.  I  will  begin,  however,  with 
a  protest  against  a  bill  for  the  reorganization  of  the 
judiciary,  signed  by  Lincoln  as  a  member  of  the  II- 


142     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

linois  Legislature.  These  resolutions,  which  Lincoln 
drafted/  show  what  his  general  views  were  as  to  the 
courts  many  years  before  the  Dred  Scott  decision. 
The  important  portion  of  them  runs  as  follows  : 

For  reasons  thus  presented,  and  for  others  no  less  apparent, 
the  undersigned  cannot  assent  to  the  passage  of  the  bill,  or 
permit  it  to  become  a  law,  without  this  evidence  of  their  dis- 
approbation; and  they  now  protest  against  the  reorganization 
of  the  judiciary,  because:  (1)  It  violates  the  great  principles  of 
free  government  by  subjecting  the  judiciary  to  the  legislature. 
(2)  It  is  a  fatal  blow  at  the  independence  of  the  judges  and  the 
constitutional  term  of  their  office.  (3)  It  is  a  measure  not 
asked  for  or  wished  for,  by  the  people.  (4)  It  will  greatly  in- 
crease the  expense  of  our  courts,  or  else  greatly  diminish  their 
utility.  (5)  It  will  give  our  courts  a  political  and  partisan 
character,  thereby  impairing  public  confidence  in  their  de- 
cisions. (6)  It  will  impair  our  standing  with  other  States  and 
the  world.  .  .  . 

(Signed  by  thirty-five  members,  among  whom  was  Abraham 
Lincoln.) 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  first  two  objections  state 
in  the  strongest  terms  the  principle  of  the  independence 
of  the  judiciary,  and  declare  that  this  great  principle 
is  violated  by  subjecting  the  judiciary  to  the  legisla- 
ture, who  were  the  representatives  of  the  people.  In 
this  case  it  happened  to  be  the  legislature,  but  the 
principle  is  that  the  courts  should  not  be  subjected  to 
any  outside  control  or  influence,  whether  that  control 
comes  from  the  executive,  the  legislature,  or  the  voters. 

^  Life  of  Lincoln,  Hay  and  Nicolay,  Vol.  1,  p.  164. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      143 

Holding  these  principles,  Lincoln  sixteen  years  later 
was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  Dred  Scott  opinion, 
and  this  is  how  he  dealt  with  it,  a  little  more  than 
three  months  after  it  was  delivered,  in  a  speech  at 
Springfield,  Illinois,  on  June  26,  1857: 

He  (Senator  Douglas)  denounces  all  who  question  the  cor- 
rectness of  that  decision,  as  offering  violent  resistance  to  it. 
But  who  resists  it?  Who  has,  in  spite  of  the  decision,  declared 
Dred  Scott  free  and  resisted  the  authority  of  his  master  over 
him? 

Judicial  decisions  have  two  uses  —  first,  to  absolutely  de- 
termine the  case  decided,  and  secondly,  to  indicate  to  the 
public  how  other  similar  cases  will  be  decided  when  they  arise. 
For  the  latter  use,  they  are  called  "precedents"  and  "author- 
ities." 

We  believe  as  much  as  Judge  Douglas  (perhaps  more)  in 
obedience  to,  and  respect  for,  the  Judicial  department  of  the 
government.  We  think  its  decisions  on  constitutional  questions, 
when  fully  settled,  should  control  not  only  the  -particular  cases  de- 
cided, hut  the  general  policy  of  the  country,  subject  to  he  disturhed 
only  hy  amendments  of  the  Constitution  as  provided  in  that  in- 
strument itself.  More  than  this  would  he  revolution.  But  we 
think  the  Dred  Scott  decision  is  erroneous.  We  know  the  court 
that  made  it  has  often  overruled  its  own  decisions,  and  we  shall 
do  what  we  can  to  have  it  overrule  this.  We  offer  no  resistance 
to  it. 

Judicial  decisions  are  of  greater  or  less  authority  as  precedents 
according  to  circumstances.  That  this  should  be  so  accords 
both  with  common  sense  and  the  customary  understanding  of 
the  legal  profession. 

If  this  important  decision  had  been  made  by  the  unanimous 
concurrence  of  the  judges,  and  without  any  apparent  partisan 
bias,  and  in  accordance  with  legal  public  expectation  and  with 


144     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

the  steady  practice  of  the  departments  throughout  our  his- 
tory and  had  been  in  no  part  based  on  assumed  historical 
facts,  which  are  not  really  true;  or,  if  wanting  in  some  of  these, 
it  had  been  before  the  court  more  than  once,  and  had  there  been 
affirmed  or  reaffirmed  through  a  course  of  years,  it  then  might 
be,  perhaps  would  be,  factious,  nay,  even  revolutionary,  not  to 
acquiesce  in  it  as  a  precedent. 

But  when,  as  is  true,  we  find  it  wanting  in  all  these  claims  to 
the  public  confidence,  it  is  not  resistance,  it  is  not  factious,  it 
is  not  even  disrespectful,  to  treat  it  as  not  having  yet  quite 
established  a  settled  doctrine  for  the  country. 

Contrast  these  calm  wordS;  uttered  under  the  great- 
est provocation,  with  the  violent  attacks  now  made 
on  the  courts  for  two  or  three  decisions  which  are  in 
no  respect  political  and  which  are  as  nothing  compared 
to  the  momentous  issue  involved  in  the  Dred  Scott 
case,  where  the  freedom  of  human  beings  and  the  right 
of  the  people  to  decide  upon  slavery  in  the  territories 
were  at  stake.  There  is  not  a  proposition  which  is  not 
stated  with  all  Lincoln's  unrivalled  lucidity,  and  there 
is  not  the  faintest  suggestion  of  breaking  down  the 
power  of  the  courts  or  of  taking  from  them  their  inde- 
pendence. 

A  year  later,  just  before  the  great  debate  with 
Douglas,  but  when  that  debate  had  in  reality  begun, 
Lincoln  at  Chicago  on  July  10,  1858,  again  took  up 
the  Dred  Scott  case  and  spoke  as  follows: 

I  have  expressed  heretofore,  and  I  now  repeat,  my  opposi- 
tion to  the  Dred  Scott  decision;  but  I  should  be  allowed  to 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      145 

state  the  nature  of  that  opposition,  and  I  ask  your  indulgence 
while  I  do  so.  What  is  fairly  implied  by  the  term  Judge 
Douglas  has  used:  "Resistance  to  the  decision"?  I  do  not  re- 
sist it.  If  I  wanted  to  take  Dred  Scott  from  his  master,  I  would 
be  interfering  with  property,  and  that  terrible  difficulty  that 
Judge  Douglas  speaks  of,  of  interfering  with  property,  would 
arise.  But  I  am  doing  no  such  thing  as  that;  all  that  I  am 
doing  is  refusing  to  obey  it  as  a  political  rule.  If  I  were  in 
Congress,  and  a  vote  should  come  up  on  a  question  of  whether 
slavery  should  be  prohibited  in  a  new  territory,  in  spite  of  the 
Dred  Scott  decision,  I  would  vote  that  it  should. 

That  is  what  I  would  do.  Judge  Douglas  said  last  night 
that  before  the  decision  he  might  advance  his  opinion,  and  it 
might  be  contrary  to  the  decision  when  it  was  made;  but  after 
it  was  made  he  would  abide  by  it  until  it  was  reversed.  Just 
so  I  We  let  this  property  abide  by  the  decision,  but  we  will 
try  to  reverse  that  decision.  We  will  try  to  put  it  where  Judge 
Douglas  would  not  object,  for  he  says  he  will  obey  it  until  it  is 
reversed.  Somebody  has  to  reverse  that  decision  since  it  is  made ; 
and  we  mean  to  reverse  it,  and  we  mean  to  do  it  peaceably. 

What  are  the  uses  of  decisions  of  courts?  They  have  two 
uses.  As  rules  of  property  they  have  two  uses.  First,  they 
decide  upon  the  question  before  the  court.  They  decide  in 
this  case  that  Dred  Scott  is  a  slave.  Nobody  resists  that. 
Not  only  that,  but  they  say  to  everybody  else  that  persons 
standing  just  as  Dred  Scott  stands  are  as  he  is.  That  is,  they 
say  that  when  a  question  comes  up  upon  another  person,  it 
will  be  so  decided  again,  unless  the  court  decides  in  another 
way,  unless  the  court  overrules  its  decision.  Well,  we  mean 
to  do  what  we  can  to  have  the  court  decide  the  other  way. 
That  is  one  thing  we  mean  to  try  to  do. 

Again,  in  a  speech  at  Springfield,  Illinois,  on  July  17, 
1858,  he  said: 


146     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

Now  as  to  the  Dred  Scott  decision:  for  upon  that  he  makes 
his  last  point  at  me.  He  boldly  takes  ground  in  favor  of  that 
decision.  This  is  one-half  the  onslaught,  and  one-third  of  the 
entire  plan  of  the  campaign.  I  am  opposed  to  that  decision 
in  a  certain  sense,  but  not  in  the  sense  which  he  puts  on  it.  I 
say  that  in  so  far  as  it  decided  in  favor  of  Dred  Scott's  master, 
and  against  Dred  Scott  and  his  family,  I  do  not  propose  to  dis- 
turb or  resist  the  decision. 

I  never  have  proposed  to  do  any  such  thing.  I  think  that  in 
respect  for  judicial  authority,  my  humble  history  would  not 
suffer  in  comparison  with  that  of  Judge  Douglas.  He  would 
have  the  citizens  conform  his  vote  to  that  decision;  the  member 
of  Congress,  his;  the  President,  his  use  of  the  veto  power.  He 
would  make  it  a  rule  of  political  action  for  the  people  and  all 
the  departments  of  the  government.  I  would  not.  By  re- 
sisting it  as  a  political  rule,  I  disturb  no  right  of  property, 
create  no  disorder,  excite  no  mobs. 

In  some  notes  for  speeches,  which  the  editors  date 
October  1,  1858  (?),  we  find  this  fragment,  which  is 
of  great  interest  because  it  shows  how  strongly  Lincoln 
felt  that  the  Dred  Scott  case  could  be  dealt  with,  and 
set  aside  under  the  Constitution  without  amending 
that  instrument  or  seeking  to  break  down  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  courts.    The  note  runs  as  follows: 


That  burlesque  upon  judicial  decisions,  and  slander  and  prof- 
anation upon  the  honored  names  and  sacred  history  of  re- 
publican America,  must  be  overruled  and  expunged  from  the 
books  of  authority. 

To  give  the  victory  to  the  right,  not  bloody  bullets,  but 
peaceful  ballots  only  are  necessary.  Thanks  to  our  good  old 
Constitution,  and  the  organization  under  it,  these  alone  are 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      147 

necessary.     It  only  needs  that  every  right-thinking  man  shall 
go  to  the  polls,  and  without  fear  or  prejudice  vote  as  he  thinks. 

Again,  in  the  joint  debate  at  Quincy,  Illinois,  on 
October  13,  1858,  he  said: 

We  do  not  propose  that  when  Dred  Scott  has  been  decided 
to  be  a  slave  by  the  court,  we,  as  a  mob,  will  decide  him  to 
be  free.  We  do  not  propose  that,  when  any  other  one,  or  one 
thousand,  shall  be  decided  by  that  court  to  be  slaves,  we  will 
in  any  violent  way  disturb  the  rights  of  property  thus  settled; 
but  we  nevertheless  do  oppose  that  decision  as  a  political  rule, 
which  shall  be  binding  on  the  voter  to  vote  for  nobody  who 
thinks  it  wrong,  which  shall  be  binding  on  the  members  of 
Congress  or  the  President  to  favor  no  measure  that  does  not 
actually  concur  with  the  principles  of  that  decision.  We  do 
not  propose  to  be  bound  by  it  as  a  political  rule  in  that  way, 
because  we  think  it  lays  the  foundation  not  merely  of  enlarging 
and  spreading  out  what  we  consider  an  evil,  but  it  lays  the 
foundation  for  spreading  that  evil  into  the  States  themselves. 
We  propose  so  resisting  it  as  to  have  it  revised  if  we  can,  and 
a  new  judicial  rule  established  upon  this  subject. 

I  will  add  this :  that  if  there  be  any  man  who  does  not  believe 
that  slavery  is  wrong  in  the  three  aspects  which  I  have  men- 
tioned, or  in  any  one  of  them,  that  man  is  misplaced  and  ought 
to  leave  us.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  if  there  be  any  man  in 
the  Republican  party  who  is  impatient  over  the  necessity  spring- 
ing from  its  actual  presence,  and  is  impatient  of  the  constitu- 
tional guarantees  thrown  around  it,  and  would  act  in  disregard 
of  these,  he  too  is  misplaced,  standing  with  us.  He  will  find  his 
place  somewhere  else;  for  we  have  a  due  regard,  so  far  as  we 
are  capable  of  understanding  them,  for  all  these  things.  This, 
gentlemen,  as  well  as  I  can  give  it,  is  a  plain  statement  of  our 
principles  in  all  their  enormity. 


148  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

He  discussed  the  great  question  many  times,  but  I 
will  make  only  one  more  quotation,  the  passage  in 
the  first  inaugural;  where  on  the  eve  of  secession  and 
civil  war  he  gave  expression,  every  word  weighed  and 
meditated,  to  his  opinions  and  intentions.  On  that 
solemn  occasion  he  spoke  thus  of  the  courts: 

I  do  not  forget  the  position,  assumed  by  some,  that  con- 
stitutional questions  are  to  be  decided  by  the  Supreme  Court; 
nor  do  I  deny  that  such  decisions  must  be  binding,  in  any  case, 
upon  the  parties  to  a  suit,  as  to  the  object  of  that  suit,  while 
they  are  also  entitled  to  very  high  respect  and  consideration 
in  all  parallel  cases  by  all  other  departments  of  the  govern- 
ment. And  while  it  is  obviously  possible  that  such  decisions 
may  be  erroneous  in  any  given  case,  still  the  evil  effect  follow- 
ing it,  being  limited  to  that  particular  case,  with  the  chance  that 
it  may  be  overruled  and  never  become  a  precedent  for  other 
cases,  can  better  be  borne  than  could  the  evils  of  a  different 
practice.  At  the  same  time,  the  candid  citizen  must  confess 
that  if  the  policy  of  the  government,  upon  vital  questions 
affecting  the  whole  people,  is  to  be  irrevocably  fixed  by  the  de- 
cisions of  the  Supreme  Court,  the  instant  they  are  made,  in 
ordinary  litigation  between  the  parties  in  personal  actions,  the 
people  will  have  ceased  to  be  their  own  rulers,  having  to  that 
extent  practically  resigned  their  government  into  the  hands  of 
the  eminent  tribunal.  Nor  is  there  in  this  view  any  assault 
upon  the  courts  or  the  judges.  It  is  a  duty  from  which  they 
may  not  shrink  to  decide  cases  properly  brought  before  them, 
and  it  is  no  fault  of  theirs  if  others  seek  to  turn  their  decisions 
to  political  purposes. 

From  these  extracts  we  may  see  that  Lincoln  held 
that  the  courts  had  no  right  to  lay  down  a  rule  of 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      149 

political  action  and  that  if  they  did  so  no  one  was 
bound  by  it.  That  now  is,  indeed,  the  position  of  the 
court  itself.  He  said  that  no  one  should  resist  the 
decision  in  the  Dred  Scott  case,  but  that  it  was  the 
duty  of  all  who  beheved  that  doctrine  contrary  to 
freedom  and  to  American  principles  to  seek  to  have 
it  overruled  —  not  reviewed  by  the  voters  at  the  ballot- 
box,  or  changed  by  the  recall  of  its  authors,  but  simply 
overruled  by  the  court  itself.  Again,  no  one  will  dis- 
sent. But  beyond  this  he  did  not  go.  On  the  con- 
trary, be  upheld  the  judicial  authority  within  its 
proper  domain,  and  there  is  no  suggestion  to  be  found, 
even  under  that  bitter  provocation,  of  any  attempt  to 
make  the  courts  subservient  to  any  outside  power  by 
any  such  device  as  a  recall.  Still  less  is  there  any 
thought  of  reversing  the  decision  by  a  popular  vote. 
On  the  contrary,  at  Quincy,  speaking  to  a  popular 
audience,  he  said,  as  you  remember: 

We  do  not  propose  that  when  Dred  Scott  has  been  decided 
to  be  a  slave  by  the  court,  we,  as  a  mob,  will  decide  him  to  be 
free. 

There  is  no  need  to  comment  further  upon  the  pas- 
sages which  have  just  been  quoted.  It  is  enough  for 
me  to  say  that  Lincoln's  discussion  of  the  Dred  Scott 
case  seems  to  me  to  contain  the  strongest  arguments 
for  an  independent  judiciary  that  can  be  found  any- 
where.   We  may  also  be  sure,  I  thmk,  that  Lincoln 


150     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

did  not  forget  in  his  righteous  indignation  at  the  Dred 
Scott  opinion  that  every  slave  who  set  foot  on  EngUsh 
soil  became  a  free  man  by  Lord  Mansfield^s  decision 
in  Somersett's  case  (1772),  or  that  slavery  had  been 
ended  in  Massachusetts  by  a  decision  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  the  State  in  1783  under  the  sentence,  that 
^'all  men  are  born  free  and  equal,"  inserted  in  the  con- 
stitution of  that  State  for  that  precise  purpose  by 
John  Lowell. 

Passing  now  from  the  particular  to  the  general,  let 
me  by  a  few  brief  quotations  show  you  what  Lincoln 
thought  of  our  government  under  the  Constitution  as 
a  whole.  In  a  speech  at  Columbus,  Ohio,  on  Septem- 
ber 16,  1859,  he  said: 

I  believe  there  is  a  genuine  popular  sovereignty.  I  think 
a  definition  of  genuine  popular  sovereignty,  in  the  abstract, 
would  be  about  this:  That  each  man  shall  do  precisely  as  he 
pleases  with  himself,  and  with  all  those  things  which  exclusively 
concern  him.  Applied  to  government,  this  principle  would  be, 
that  a  general  government  shall  do  all  those  things  which  per- 
tain to  it,  and  all  the  local  governments  shall  do  precisely  as 
they  please  in  respect  to  those  matters  which  exclusively  con- 
cern them.  I  understand  that  this  Government  of  the  United 
States  under  which  we  live  is  based  upon  this  principle;  and  I 
am  misunderstood  if  it  is  supposed  that  I  have  any  war  to  make 
upon  that  principle. 

In  his  address  at  Cooper  Institute,  in  New  York,  on 
February  27,  1860,  he  said: 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      151 

Now,  and  here,  let  me  guard  a  little  against  being  misunder- 
stood. I  do  not  mean  to  say  we  are  bound  to  follow  implicitly 
in  whatever  our  fathers  did.  To  do  so  would  be  to  discard  all 
the  lights  of  current  experience  —  to  reject  all  progress,  all  im- 
provement. What  I  do  say  is  that  if  we  would  supplant  the 
opinions  and  policy  of  our  fathers  in  any  case,  we  should  do  so 
upon  evidence  so  conclusive,  and  argument  so  clear,  that  even 
their  great  authority,  fairly  considered  and  weighed,  cannot 
stand:  and  most  surely  not  in  a  case  whereof  we  ourselves  de- 
clare they  understood  the  question  better  than  we. 

In  his  reply  to  the  Mayor  of  Philadelphia,  on  Febru- 
ary 21,  1861,  he  spoke  as  follows: 

Your  worthy  mayor  has  expressed  the  wish,  in  which  I  join 
with  him,  that  it  were  convenient  for  me  to  remain  in  your  city 
long  enough  to  consult  your  merchants  and  manufacturers ;  or, 
as  it  were,  to  listen  to  those  breathings  rising  within  the  conse- 
crated walls  wherein  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States, 
and,  I  will  add,  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  were  origi- 
nally framed  and  adopted.  I  assure  you  and  your  mayor  that 
I  had  hoped  on  this  occasion,  and  upon  all  occasions  during  my 
life,  that  I  shall  do  nothing  inconsistent  with  the  teachings  of 
these  holy  and  most  sacred  walls.  All  my  political  warfare  has 
been  in  favor  of  the  teachings  that  came  forth  from  these  sacred 
walls.  May  my  right  hand  forget  its  cunning  and  my  tongue 
cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth  if  ever  I  prove  false  to  those 
teachings. 

So  he  spoke  at  the  threshold  of  the  great  conflict. 
Listen  to  him  now  as  he  spoke  three  years  later,  with 
the  war  nearing  its  close  and  when  the  hand  of  fate 
could  almost  be  heard  knocking  at  his  door.    On 


152  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

August  18,  1864,  in  an  address  to  the  164th  Ohio  Regi- 
ment, he  said: 

We  have,  as  all  will  agree,  a  free  government,  where  every 
man  has  a  right  to  be  equal  with  every  other  man.  In  this 
great  struggle,  this  form  of  government  and  every  form  of 
human  right  is  endangered  if  our  enemies  succeed.  There  is 
more  involved  in  this  contest  than  is  realized  by  every  one. 
There  is  involved  in  this  struggle  the  question  whether  your 
children  and  my  children  shall  enjoy  the  privileges  we  have 
enjoyed.  I  say  this  in  order  to  impress  upon  you,  if  you  are 
not  already  so  impressed,  that  no  small  matter  should  divert  us 
from  our  great  purpose. 

There  may  be  some  inequalities  in  the  practical  application 
of  our  system.  It  is  fair  that  each  man  shall  pay  taxes  in  exact 
proportion  to  the  value  of  his  property;  but  if  we  should  wait, 
before  collecting  a  tax,  to  adjust  the  taxes  upon  each  man  in 
exact  proportion  with  every  other  man,  we  should  never  col- 
lect any  tax  at  all.  There  may  be  mistakes  made  sometimes; 
things  may  be  done  wrong,  while  the  officers  of  the  government 
do  all  they  can  to  prevent  mistakes.  But  I  beg  of  you,  as 
citizens  of  this  great  republic,  not  to  let  your  minds  be  carried 
off  from  the  great  work  we  have  before  us. 

He  said,  on  August  22,  1864,  in  his  address  to  the 
166th  Ohio  Regiment: 

It  is  not  merely  for  to-day,  but  for  all  time  to  come,  that  we 
should  perpetuate  for  our  children's  children  that  great  and  free 
government  which  we  have  enjoyed  all  our  lives.  I  beg  you  to 
remember  this,  not  merely  for  my  sake,  but  for  yours.  I  hap- 
pen, temporarily,  to  occupy  this  White  House.  I  am  a  living 
witness  that  any  one  of  your  children  may  look  to  come  here  as 
my  father's  child  has.     It  is  in  order  that  each  one  of  you  may 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      153 

have,  through  this  free  government  which  we  have  enjoyed,  an 
open  field  and  a  fair  chance  for  your  industry,  enterprise  and 
inteUigence:  that  you  may  all  have  equal  privileges  in  the  race 
of  life,  with  all  its  desirable  human  aspirations.  It  is  for  this 
the  struggle  should  be  maintained,  that  we  may  not  lose  our 
birthright -not  only  for  one,  but  for  two  or  three  years. 
The  nation  is  worth  fighting  for,  to  secure  such  an  inestimable 
jewel. 

And  on  August  31,  1864,  in  an  address  to  the  148th 
Ohio  Regiment,  he  said: 

But  this  government  must  be  preserved  in  spite  of  the  acts 
of  any  man  or  set  of  men.  It  is  worthy  of  your  every  effort 
Nowhere  in  the  world  is  presented  a  government  of  so  much 
liberty  and  equality.  To  the  humblest  and  poorest  amongst 
us  are  held  out  the  highest  privileges  and  positions.  The 
present  moment  finds  me  at  the  White  House,  yet  there  is  as 
good  a  chance  for  your  children  there  as  there  was  for  my 
father's. 

With  these  noble  words,  uttered  as  the  dark  shadows 
of  the  past  were  fleeing  away  and  the  hght  of  the  coming 
victory  was  beginning  to  shine  upon  him,  let  us  leave 
him.  As  at  Gettysburg,  over  the  graves  of  the  dead 
soldiers,  he  declared  that  the  great  battle  had  been 
fought  in  order  that  ^'government  of  the  people,  by 
the  people,  for  the  people''  should  not  perish  from  the 
earth,  so  now  to  the  living  soldiers  he  said  that  nowhere 
in  the  world  was  presented  a  '^  government  of  so  much 
liberty  and  equality."  Thus,  at  the  close,  just  as  at 
the  beginning  when  he  was  a  young  man  entirely  un- 


154  THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

known  beyond  the  confines  of  his  village,  did  he  speak 
of  the  Government  of  the  United  States  under  the 
Constitution.  Thus  he  described  his  conception  of 
democracy,  and  that  conception  he  found  fulfilled  in 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  in  the  great 
principles  of  ordered  freedom  and  guarded  rights  which 
are  there  embodied. 

There  is  one  other  point  alluded  to  by  Lincoln  when 
he  defined  ^^  genuine  popular  government/'  which  does 
not  directly  concern  the  subject  I  have  been  discussing, 
but  which  is  of  quite  equal  importance  and  upon  which 
I  wish  to  say  a  few  words  in  closing.  The  framers  of 
the  Constitution  made  one  great  contribution  to  the 
science  of  government,  in  the  application  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  federation  upon  a  scale  and  in  a  manner  never 
before  attempted.  A  large  part  of  the  Constitution 
is  devoted  to  the  arrangement  and  adjustment  of  the 
relations  between  the  States  and  the  general  govern- 
ment. Upon  the  construction  of  those  relations,  as 
we  all  know,  parties  divided  and  our  history  largely 
turned  for  more  than  seventy  years.  The  contest 
was  between  the  rights  of  the  States  on  the  one  hand 
and  the  powers  of  the  central  government  on  the  other. 
The  conflict  culminated  in  the  Civil  War  and  in  the 
effort  of  certain  States  to  break  up  the  Union.  The 
result  of  the  war  was  the  preservation  of  the  Union 
and  the  defeat  of  secession.  But  secession,  or  the 
separation  of  the  States,  is  not  the  only  way  in  which 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      155 

the  Union  can  be  destroyed.  The  other  and  no  less 
effective  method  of  destroying  the  Union  is  by  the 
aboHtion  of  the  States,  which  could  be  attained  by 
reducing  them  to  merely  nominal  divisions  and  taking 
from  them  those  powers  and  duties  reserved  to  them 
by  the  Constitution  and  which  alone  make  them  living 
organisms.  The  first  danger  ended  forever  at  Ap- 
pomattox. The  second  is  threatening  us,  and  in  no 
obscure  fashion,  to-day.  The  growth  of  the  power  of 
the  central  government,  together  with  its  constant 
assumption  of  new  duties,  is  in  a  degree  inevitable  and, 
in  a  less  degree,  no  doubt,  desirable.  But  this  in- 
evitable movement  is  always  quite  rapid  enough  and 
should  be  retarded  rather  than  accelerated.  It  is 
not,  however,  to  this  tendency  of  development  that  I 
now  refer,  but  to  something  much  graver  and  which 
is  in  its  nature  absolutely  destructive. 

There  is  a  widespread  agitation  in  favor  of  having 
Presidents  nominated  as  party  candidates,  not  by  the 
people  of  the  States,  each  State  being  allotted  the  num- 
ber of  votes  to  which  it  is  entitled  by  the  number  of 
party  votes  cast  at  a  previous  election,  but  by  all  the 
members  of  the  party  throughout  the  countiy  without 
reference  to  State  lines.  It  is  further  proposed,  and  a 
constitutional  amendment  with  that  object  in  view 
was  pending  in  the  Senate  at  the  last  session,  to  have 
the  President  elected  by  the  votes  of  all  the  people 
instead  of  by  the  votes  of  the  people  of  the  States,  each 


156     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

State  having  two  votes  as  a  State  and  additional  votes 
based  on  population.  An  amendment  to  that  effect , 
proposed  as  an  addition  to  another  constitutional 
amendment,  was  defeated  in  the  Senate  a  few  weeks 
ago  by  a  narrow  majority. 

A  President  so  nominated  and  elected  would  not  be 
the  President  of  the  United  States,  but  of  the  American 
Republic,  or  President  of  the  Americans,  as  Louis 
Napoleon  was  styled  Emperor  of  the  French,  having 
been  chosen  by  a  universal  plebiscite.  Party  prin- 
ciples, party  organization,  party  responsibility,  would 
all  disappear.  Perhaps  in  this  connection  it  is  not 
amiss  to  remember  that,  in  a  eulogy  upon  Henry  Clay, 
delivered  in  the  State  House  at  Springfield,  Illinois,  on 
July  16,  1852,  Lincoln  said: 

A  free  people  in  times  of  peace  and  quiet  —  when  pressed  by 
no  common  danger  —  natm-ally  divide  into  parties.  At  such 
times  the  man  who  is  of  neither  party  is  not,  cannot  be,  of  any 
consequence.     Mr.  Clay,  therefore,  was  of  a  party. 

As  usual,  in  discussing  any  subject,  he  laid  his  un- 
erring finger  upon  a  vital  point.  The  destruction  of 
parties  and  party  organizations  would  reduce  the  un- 
organized voters,  acting  simply  as  individuals,  to  a 
condition  of  helplessness.  We  should  no  longer  have 
great  organizations,  with  declared  principles  and  es- 
tablished traditions,  which  could  be  held  to  strict 
responsibility,  but  simply  followers  of  certain  chiefs. 


THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      157 

Those  chiefs  would  be  self-made,  presidential  candi- 
dates with  personal  manifestoes  after  the  familiar 
fashion  of  South  American  dictators. 

But  these  objections,  serious  as  they  are,  sink  into 
insignificance  when  compared  with  the  far  graver 
results  which  lie  behind  these  propositions.  To  nomi- 
nate and  elect  Presidents  by  a  vote  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple, without  reference  to  State  lines,  would  be  a  step, 
and  a  long  step,  toward  the  extinction  of  the  States. 
That  would  mean  the  enormous  exaltation  of  the  ex- 
ecutive power,  to  which  all  these  movements  for  the 
destruction  of  the  Constitution  alike  tend.  The 
abolition  or  degradation  of  the  States  would  mean  a 
real  imperiahsm  and  not  the  sham  imperialism  about 
which  many  excellent  people  were  quite  needlessly 
distressed  when  we  took  possession  of  certain  islands 
after  the  Spanish  War.  We  might  continue  to  call 
our  territorial  divisions  States,  and  their  chief  executive 
officers  governors,  but  names  are  nothing  and  with  the 
States  stripped  of  all  power  they  would  be  in  reality 
provinces  and  their  rulers  prefects  appointed  in  Wash- 
ington. The  abolition  of  the  States  would  mean  the 
loss  or  the  ruin  of  the  great  principle  of  local  self-gov- 
ernment, which  lies  at  the  very  root  of  free  popular 
government  and  of  true  democracy.  The  States, 
within  their  limitations  and  in  the  exercise  of  their 
proper  powers,  are  the  sheet-anchor  which  keeps  the 
ship  of  state  from  drifting  helplessly  upon  the  rocks  of 


158     THE  DEMOCRACY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN 

empire  and  of  personal  autocratic  rule,  where  so  many 
great  nations  have  met  untimely  wreck. 

These  are  no  imaginary  dangers,  no  alarms  conjured 
up  to  arrest  improvement  and  advance.  Actual  meas- 
ures leading  to  the  results  I  have  described  are  being 
pressed  and  advocated.  It  is  a  less  obvious,  a  slower, 
a  more  insidious  way  of  destroying  the  Union  of 
States  than  by  open  war,  but  if  successful  it  is  equally 
certain  in  its  results.  We  should  pause  long  and  think 
well  before  we  enter  upon  such  changes  as  these,  all 
the  more  perilous  because  they  are  demanded  in  the 
name  of  the  people  and  look  harmless,  perhaps,  to 
those  who  do  not  stop  to  consider  them. 

We  are  confronted  to-day  with  the  gravest  questions 
which  the  American  people  have  been  called  upon  to 
decide  since  1860.  I  do  not  mean  questions  of  social 
or  economic  policy,  nor  issues  of  war,  or  peace,  or  foreign 
relations.  I  mean  questions  now  pressing  upon  us 
which  involve  the  very  fabric  of  our  Constitution, 
under  which  freedom,  order,  and  prosperity  have  gone 
with  us  hand  in  hand.  It  is  a  time  for  careful  thought, 
a  time  to  tear  aside  the  veils  of  speech  and  come 
straight  to  the  substance  of  things,  to  facts  and  prin- 
ciples. Let  us  not  at  a  time  like  this  and  in  the  pres- 
ence of  such  questions,  be  the  slaves  of  words  and 
phrases.    In  the  Book  of  Judges  it  is  written: 

Then  said  they  unto  him,  "Say  now  'Shibboleth.'"  And 
he  said  "Sibboleth":  for  he  could  not  frame  to  pronounce  it 


THE  DEMOCRA.CY  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN      159 

right.    Then  they  took  him  and  slew  him  at  the  passages  of 
the  Jordan. 

There  has  been  too  much  of  this  of  late,  too  much 
dependence  on  how  loudly  a  man  could  shout  certain 
words  and  how  he  pronounced  the  ''Shibboleth" 
which  was  proposed  to  him.  Let  us  get  away  from 
words  and  phrases  and  come  down  to  facts  and  deeds. 
Before  we  begin  to  revolutionize  our  Constitution  and 
its  principles,  let  us  know  well  what  that  Constitution 
is,  what  it  means,  what  it  has  accomphshed,  and 
whither  the  changes  so  noisily  urged  will  lead  us. 

In  his  message  to  Congress  on  July  4,  1861,  speaking 
of  the  officers  of  the  regular  army  from  the  seceding 
States  who  had  remained  true  to  the  government  of 
the  Union,  Lincoln  said: 

This  is  the  patriotic  instinct  of  the  plain  people.  They 
understand,  without  an  argument,  that  the  destroying  of  the 
Government  which  was  made  by  Washington  means  no  good  to 
them. 

I  have  faith  that  the  people  to-day  feel  as  they  did 
then.  I  am  sure  that  when  they  shall  understand 
whither  they  are  being  led  they  will  know  that  to  im- 
pair or  to  destroy  the  government  which  Washington 
made  and  Lincoln  saved  ''means  no  good  to  them." 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN ' 

Mr.  President,  when  the  senior  senator  from  South 
Carolina  (Mr.  Tillman),  whose  illness  we  all  deplore, 
did  me  the  honor  to  ask  me  to  take  part  in  the  cere- 
monies connected  with  the  reception  of  the  statue  of 
Mr.  Calhoun,  I  was  very  much  gratified  by  his  request. 
In  the  years  which  preceded  the  Civil  War  South 
Carolina  and  Massachusetts  represented  more  strongly, 
more  extremely,  perhaps,  than  any  other  States  the 
opposing  principles  which  were  then  in  conflict.  Now, 
when  that  period  has  drifted  back  into  the  quiet 
waters  of  histoiy,  it  seems  particularly  appropriate 
that  Massachusetts  should  share  in  the  recognition 
which  we  give  to-day  to  the  memory  of  the  great 
senator  from  South  Carolina.  If  I  may  be  pardoned 
a  personal  word,  it  seems  also  fitting  that  I  should 
have  the  privilege  of  speaking  upon  this  occasion,  for 
my  own  family  were  friends  and  followers  in  successive 
generations  of  Hamilton  and  Webster  and  Sumner. 
I  was  brought  up  in  the  doctrines  and  beliefs  of  the 
great  Federalist,  the  great  Whig,  and  the  great  Re- 
publican.   It  seems  to  me,  I  repeat,  not  unfitting  that 

1  Spoenh  on  the  Acceptance  of  the  Statue  of  John  C.  Calhoun  de- 
livered in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  March  12,  1910. 

160 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  161 

one  so  bred  and  taught  should  have  the  opportunity 
to  speak  here  when  we  commemorate  the  distinguished 
statesman  who,  during  the  last  twenty-five  years  of 
his  life,  represented  with  unrivalled  ability  those 
theories  of  government  to  which  Hamilton,  Webster, 
and  Sumner  were  all  opposed. 

From  1787  to  1865  the  real  history  of  the  United 
States  is  to  be  found  in  the  struggle  between  the  forces 
of  separatism  and  those  of  nationalism.  Other  issues 
and  other  questions  during  that  period  rose  and  fell,  ab- 
sorbed the  attention  of  the  country,  and  passed  out  of 
sight,  but  the  conflict  between  the  nationahst  spirit  and 
the  separatist  spirit  never  ceased.  There  might  be  a 
lull  in  the  battle,  public  interest  might  turn,  as  it  fre- 
quently did,  to  other  questions,  but  the  deep-rooted, 
underlying  contest  was  always  there,  and  finally  took 
possession  of  every  passion  and  every  thought,  until 
it  culminated  at  last  in  the  appeal  to  arms.  The  de- 
velopment of  the  United  States  as  a  nation,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  a  league  of  States,  falls  naturally 
into  four  divisions.  The  first  is  covered  by  the  ad- 
ministrations of  Washington  and  Adams,  when  the 
government  was  founded  by  Washington  and  organ- 
ized by  Hamilton,  and  when  the  broad  lines  of  the 
policies  by  which  its  conduct  was  to  be  regulated  were 
laid  down.  When  Washington  died  the  work  of  de- 
veloping the  national  power  passed  into  the  hands  of 
another  great  Virginian,  John  Marshall,  who,  in  the 


162  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

cool  retirement  of  the  Supreme  Court  for  thirty  years, 
steadily  and  surely,  but  almost  unnoticed  at  the  mo- 
ment, converted  the  Constitution  from  an  experi- 
ment in  government,  tottering  upon  the  edge  of  the 
precipice  which  had  engulfed  the  Confederation,  into 
the  charter  of  a  nation.  While  he  was  engaged  upon 
this  work,  to  which  he  brought  not  only  the  genius  of 
the  lawyer  and  the  jurist,  but  of  the  statesman  as  well, 
another  movement  went  on  outside  the  courtroom, 
which  stimulated  the  national  life  to  a  degree  only 
realized  in  after  years,  when  men  began  to  study  the 
history  of  the  time. 

By  the  Revolution  we  had  separated  ourselves  from 
England  and  estabHshed  nominally  our  political  inde- 
pendence. But  that  political  independence  was  only 
nominal.  The  colonial  spirit  still  prevailed.  During 
the  two  hundred  years  of  colonial  Hfe  our  fortunes  had 
been  determined  by  events  in  Europe.  It  was  no 
mere  metaphor  which  Pitt  employed  when  he  said  he 
would  "conquer  America  upon  the  plains  of  Ger- 
many," and  the  idea  embodied  in  the  words  of  the 
Great  Commoner  clung  to  us  even  after  the  adoption 
of  the  Constitution,  for  habits  of  thought,  impalpa- 
ble as  air,  are  very  slow  to  change.  The  colonial  spirit 
resisted  Washington's  neutrality  policy  when  the 
French  Revolution  broke  out,  and  as  the  j'^ears  passed 
was  still  strong  enough  to  hamper  all  our  movements 
and  force  us  to  drift  helplessly  upon  the  stormy  seas 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  163 

of  the  Napoleonic  wars.  The  result  was  that  we  were 
treated  by  France  on  one  side  and  by  England  on  the 
other  in  a  manner  which  fills  an  American's  heart  with 
indignation  and  with  shame  even  to  read  of  it  a  hun- 
dred years  afterward.  And  then  in  those  days  of 
humiliation  there  arose  a  group  of  young  men,  chiefly 
from  the  South  and  West,  who  made  up  their  minds 
that  this  condition  was  unbearable;  that  they  would 
assert  the  independence  of  the  United  States;  that 
they  would  secure  to  her  due  recognition  among  the 
nations;  and  that  rather  than  have  the  shameful  con- 
ditions which  then  existed  continue  they  would  fight. 
They  did  not  care  much  with  whom  they  fought,  but 
they  intended  to  vindicate  the  right  of  the  United 
States  to  live  as  a  respected  and  self-respecting  inde- 
pendent nation.  Animated  by  this  spirit,  they  plunged 
the  country  into  war  with  England. 

They  did  not  stop  to  make  proper  preparations;  their 
legislation  was  often  as  violent  as  it  was  ineffective; 
the  war  was  not  a  success  on  land,  and  was  redeemed 
only  by  the  victory  at  New  Orleans  and  by  the  brilHant 
fighting  of  our  little  navy.  On  the  face  of  the  Treaty  of 
Ghent  it  did  not  appear  that  we  had  gained  a  single  one 
of  the  points  for  which  we  went  to  war,  and  yet  the  war 
party  had  really  achieved  a  complete  triumph.  Through 
their  determination  to  fight  at  any  cost  we  were  recog- 
nized at  last  as  an  independent  nation,  and,  what  was 
far  more  important,  we  had  forever  destroyed  the  colo- 


164  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

nial  idea  that  the  pohtics  and  the  peace  of  the  United 
States  were  to  veer  hither  and  thither  at  the  bidding 
of  every  breeze  which  blew  from  Europe.  Such  work 
could  not  have  been  done  without  a  vigorous  growth 
of  the  national  spirit  and  of  the  national  power,  and 
the  group  of  brilliant  men  who  brought  on  the  war 
were  entirely  conscious  that  in  carrying  out  their 
policy  they  were  stimulating  the  national  —  the  Amer- 
ican —  spirit  to  which  they  appealed.  Chief  among 
the  leaders  of  that  group  of  young  men  who  were  re- 
sponsible for  the  origin  and  conduct  of  the  War  of 
1812  was  John  C.  Calhoun, 

As  the  war,  with  its  influences  and  results,  sank  back 
into  the  past,  domestic  questions  took  possession  of  the 
field,  and  the  conflict  between  the  separatist  and  na- 
tional forces  which  had  been  temporarily  obscured 
forged  again  to  the  front,  but  under  deeply  altered  con- 
ditions. When  John  Marshall  died  in  1835,  his  great 
work  done,  the  cause  which  he  had  so  long  sustained 
had  already  entered  upon  its  third  period  —  the 
period  of  debate  —  and  the  task  which  had  fallen  from 
the  failing  hands  of  the  great  chief  justice  was  taken 
up  in  another  field  by  Daniel  Webster,  who  for  twenty 
years  stood  forth  as  the  champion  of  the  proposition 
not  that  the  Constitution  could  make  a  nation  but 
that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  it  had  made  a  nation.  Against 
him  was  Calhoun,  and  between  the  two  was  Henry 
Clay.    The  twenty  years  of  debate  which  then  en- 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  165 

sued  are  known  familiarly  as  the  days  of  Clay,  Web- 
ster, and  Calhoun.    The^  names  of  the  Presidents  who 
occupied  the  White  House  during  most  of  that  time 
have  faded,  and  the  era  of  debate  in  the  history  of  the 
parliamentary  struggle  between  the  national  and  the 
separatist  principles  is  not  associated  with  them  but 
with  the  great  senators  who  made  it  illustrious.    As 
the  century  passed  its  zenith  all  three  died,  closely 
associated  in  death  as  they  had  been  in  life.     The 
compromise  which  Clay  and  Webster  defended  and 
of  which  Calhoun  despaired  was  quickly  wrecked  in 
the  years  which  followed,  and  then  came  war  and  the 
completion  of  the  work  begun  by  Washington,  through 
the  life  and  death  of  Abraham  Lincoln  and  the  sacri- 
fices and  the  tragedy  of  four  years  of  civil  war. 
/    To  have  been,  as  Calhoun  was,  for  forty  years  a  chief 
/  figure  in  that  period  of  conflict  and  development  —  first 
a  leader  among  the  able  men  who  asserted  the  reality  of 
the  national  independence  and  established  the  place  of 
the  United  States  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and 
afterward  the  undisputed  chief  of  those  who  barred  the 
path  of  the  national  movement  —  impHes  a  man  of 
remarkable  powers  both  of  mind  and  character.    He  ^ 
merits  not  only  the  serious  consideration  which  history 
accords,  but  deserves  also  that  we  should  honor  his 
memory  here,  and,  turning  aside  from  affairs  of  the 
moment,  should  recall  him  and  his  work  in  order  that 
we  may  understand  what  he  was  and  what  he  meant. 


166  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

He  was  pre-eminently  a  strong  man,  and  strong  men, 
'  leaders  of  mankind,  who  shape  public  thought  and  de- 
^  cide  public  action,  are  very  apt  to  exhibit  in  a  high  de- 
^  gree  the  qualities  of  the  race  from  which  they  spring. 
Calhoun  came  of  a  vigorous  race  and  displayed  the  at- 
'  tributes,  both  moral  and  intellectual,  which  marked  it, 
with  unusual  vividness  and  force.  On  both  sides  he 
was  of  Scotch  descent.  His  name  is  a  variant  of  the 
distinguished  Scotch  name  Colquhoun.  It  was  a 
place-name,  assumed  at  the  beginning  of  the  tliirteenth 
century,  when  they  came  into  possession  of  certain 
lands,  by  the  noble  family  which  was  destined  to  bear 
it  for  many  generations.  Judged  by  the  history  of  the 
knights  who  in  long  succession  held  the  estates  and  the 
title,  the  Colquhouns  or  Calhouns,  who  spread  and 
multiplied  until  they  became  a  clan,  were  a  very  strong, 
very  able,  very  tenacious  stock.  They  had  great  need 
of  all  these  qualities  in  order  to  maintain  themselves 
in  power,  property,  and  position  during  the  five  hun- 
dred years  which  elapsed  before  the  first  Calhoun  and 
the  first  Caldwell  started  on  the  migration  which,  after 
a  brief  pause  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  carried  Patrick 
Calhoun  and  some  of  the  Caldwells  over  the  ocean  to 
South  Carolina.  Both  families  were  tj^ical  of  their 
race,  for  the  Colquhouns  are  spoken  of  as  a  Gaelic 
clan,  while  the  Caldwells  were  Lowlanders  from  the 
Solway.  In  order  to  understand  these  types  we  must 
go  back  for  a  moment  into  those  dim,  almost  un- 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  167 

charted,  regions  of  history  where  the  tribes  of  the 
Germanic  forests  may  be  discerned  pouring  down  upon 
the  wreck  of  the  Roman  Empire.    When  the  succes- 
sive waves  of  Teutonic  invasion  broke  upon  Britam 
they  swept  up  to  the  mountains  of  the  North,  driving 
the  native  Picts  and  Scots  before  them,  and  no  part 
of  their  conquest  was  more  thoroughly  Danish  and 
Saxon  than  the  lowlands  of  Scotland.    But  the  High- 
lander, who  represented  the  survival  of  the  Celts,  and 
the  Lowlander,  who  represented  the  invaders,  were 
quickly  welded  together  in  a  common  hostility  to  their 
great   and   grasping   neighbor    of   the   South.    The 
Celtic  blood  mingled  with  that  of  the  descendants  of 
the  Teutonic  tribes.    They  quarrelled,  they  fought 
side  by  side,  they  intermarried;  they  modified  each 
other  and  gradually  adopted  each  other's  customs  and 
habits  of  thought.    We  have  but  to  read  Rob  Roy 
to  learn  that  although  the  Highlander  looked  down 
upon  the  Lowlander  as  a  trader  and  shopkeeper,  and 
the  Lowlander  regarded  the  Highlander  as  wild  and 
barbarous,  the  ties  of  blood  and  common  suffering  were 
strong  between  them  and  that  they  were  all  Scotchmen. 
It  is  a  remarkable  history,  that  of  Scotland,  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  in  the  annals  of  men.   Shut  up  in  that 
narrow  region  of  mountain  and  of  lake,  a  land  of  storm 
and  cold  and  mist,  with  no  natural  resources  except  a 
meagre  soil  and  a  tempestuous  sea  to  yield  a  hard- 
earned  living;  poor  in  this  world's  goods,  few  in  number. 


168  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

for  six  hundred  years  these  hardy  people  maintained 
their  independence  against  their  powerful  foe  to  the 
southward  and  only  united  with  him  at  last  upon 
equal  terms.  For  six  hundred  years  they  kept  their 
place  among  the  nations,  were  the  allies  of  France, 
were  distinguished  for  their  military  virtues  on  the 
continent  of  Europe,  and  cherished  a  pride  of  race  and 
country  to  which  their  deeds  gave  them  an  unclouded 
title.  They  did  all  these  things,  this  little  people,  by 
hard  fighting.  For  six  himdred  years  they  fought, 
sometimes  in  armies,  sometimes  in  bands,  always  along 
the  border,  frequently  among  themselves.  It  was  a 
terrible  training.  It  did  not  tend  to  promote  the 
amenities  of  life,  but  it  gave  slight  chance  of  survival 
to  the  timid  or  the  weak.  It  produced  the  men  who 
fell  with  their  king  at  Flodden.  They  could  die  there 
where  they  stood  beneath  the  royal  standard,  but  they 
could  not  be  conquered. 

Those  six  centuries  of  bitter  struggle  for  life  and  in- 
dependence, waged  continuously  against  nature  and 
man,  not  only  made  the  Scotch  formidable  in  battle  and 
renowned  in  every  camp  in  Europe,  but  they  developed 
qualities  of  mind  and  character  which  became  insep- 
arable from  the  race.  For  it  was  not  merely  by  chang- 
ing blows  that  the  Scotch  maintained  their  national 
existence.  Under  the  stress  of  all  these  centuries  of 
trial  they  learned  to  be  patient  and  persistent,  with  a 
fixity  of  purpose  which  never  weakened,  a  tenacity 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  169 

which  never  slackened,  and  a  determination  which 
never  wavered.  The  Scotch  intellect,  passing  through 
the  same  severe  ordeal,  as  it  was  quickened,  tempered, 
and  sharpened,  so  it  acquired  a  certain  relentlessness 
in  reasoning  which  it  never  lost.  It  emerged  at  last 
complete,  vigorous,  acute,  and  penetrating.  With  all 
these  strong  qualities  of  mind  and  character  was 
joined  an  intensity  of  conviction  which  burned  beneath 
the  cool  and  calculating  manner  and  of  which  the  stern 
and  unmoved  exterior  gave  no  sign,  like  the  fire  of  a 
furnace,  rarely  flaming,  but  sending  forth  a  fierce  and 
lasting  heat.  To  this  somewhat  rare  combination  we 
owe  the  proverbial  phrase  of  the  "perfervidum  inge- 
nium  Scotorum,''  an  attribute  little  to  be  expected 
in  a  people  so  outwardly  calm  and  self-contained.  To 
them,  in  the  struggle  of  life,  could  be  applied  the 
words  in  which  Macaulay  described  CromwelFs  army  : 
"They  marched  to  victory  with  the  precision  of  ma- 
chines, while  burning  with  the  wildest  fanaticism  of 
Crusaders.^'  After  the  union,  under  Queen  Anne, 
peace  came  gradually  to  the  long-distracted  land, 
broken  only  by  the  Jacobite  risings  of  1715  and  1745, 
and  then  the  Scotch  intellect  found  its  opportunity 
and  began  to  flower.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  eight- 
eenth and  the  first  part  of  the  nineteenth  century 
Scotland  gave  to  poetry  Scott  and  Burns  and  Camp- 
bell; to  history  Himie  and  Robertson;  to  metaphysics 
Hamilton,  Reid,  and  Stewart;  to  fiction  Smollett  and 


170  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

the  "Author  of  Waverley";  to  political  economy  Adam 
Smith;  and  these  are  only  the  greatest  luminaries  in  a 
firmament  of  stars.  Edinburgh  became  one  of  the 
intellectual  centres  of  western  civilization,  and  the 
genius  of  Scotland  was  made  famous  in  every  field  of 
thought  and  imagination.  It  was  just  at  this  time  that 
John  Caldwell  Calhoun  came  upon  the  stage,  for  the 
Scotch  intellect,  trained  and  disciplined  through  the 
darkness  and  the  conflicts  of  six  hundred  years,  blos- 
somed in  the  New  World,  as  in  the  Old,  when  once 
the  long  pressure  was  removed,  when  the  sword  needed 
no  longer  to  be  kept  always  unsheathed  and  men  could 
sleep  without  the  haunting  fear  that  they  might  be 
awakened  at  any  moment  by  the  light  of  burning 
homesteads  and  the  hoarse  shouts  of  raiders  from  over 
the  border  whose  path  was  ever  marked  by  desolation 
and  bloodshed. 

In  the  inadequate  description  which  I  have  attempted 
of  the  Scotch  character  and  intellect,  slowly  forged  and 
welded  and  shaped  by  many  stern,  hard-fighting  gener- 
i  ations,  I  think  I  have  set  forth  the  mental  and  moral 
I    qualities  of  Mr.  Calhoun.    He  had  an  intellect  of  great 
strength,  a  keen  and  penetrating  mind;  he  thought 
j    deeply  and  he  thought  clearly;  he  was  relentless  in 
I    reasoning  and  logic;  he  never  retreated  from  a  con- 
clusion to  which  his  reasoning  led.    And  with  all  this 
he  had  the  characteristic  quality  of  his  race,  the  "per- 
fervidum  ingenium,''  the  intensity  of  conviction  which 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  171 

burned  undimmed  until  his  heart  ceased  to  beat. 
Thus  endowed  by  nature  and  equipped  with  as  good 
an  education  as  could  then  be  obtained  in  the  United 
States,  Mr.  Calhoun  entered  public  life  at  the  moment 
when  the  American  people  were  smarting  under  the  in- 
sults and  humiliations  heaped  upon  them  by  France 
and  England,  and  were  gropmg  about  for  some  issue 
from  their  troubles  and  some  vindication  of  the  national 
honor  and  independence.  Calhoun  and  his  friends, 
men  like  Henry  Clay,  and  like  Lowndes  and  Cheves, 
from  his  own  State,  came  in  on  the  wave  of  popular 
revolt  against  the  conditions  to  which  the  country 
had  been  brought.  Wavering  diplomacy,  gunboats  on 
wheels,  and  even  embargoes,  which  chiefly  punished 
our  own  commerce,  had  ceased  to  appeal  to  them. 
They  had  the  great  advantage  of  knowing  what  they 
meant  to  do.  They  were  determined  to  resist.  Ify 
necessary,  they  intended  to  fight. 

They  dragged  their  party,  their  reluctant  President, 
and  their  divided  country  helplessly  after  them.  The 
result  was  the  War  of  1812.  With  war  came  not  only 
the  appeal  to  the  national  spirit,  which  was  only  just 
waking  into  life,  but  the  measures  without  which  war 
cannot  be  carried  on.  The  party  which  had  opposed 
military  and  naval  forces,  public  debts,  tariffs,  banks, 
and  a  strong  central  government  now  found  themselves 
raising  armies,  equipping  and  building  a  navy,  borrow- 
ing money,  imposing  high  import  duties,  sustaining  the 


172  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

bank,  and  developing  in  all  directions  the  powers  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States.  The  doctrines  of 
strict  construction,  which  had  been  the  idols  of  the  rul- 
ing party,  looked  far  less  attractive  when  invoked  by 
New  England  against  their  own  policies,  and  the  Con- 
stitution, which  Jefferson  set  aside,  as  he  thought,  to 
acquire  Louisiana,  became  most  elastic  in  the  hands  of 
those  who  had  sought  to  draw  its  bands  so  tightly  that 
the  infant  nation  could  hardly  move  its  limbs.  Mr. 
Calhoun,  with  his  mind  set  on  the  accomplishment  of 
the  great  purpose  of  freeing  the  United  States  from 
foreign  aggression,  and  thus  lifting  it  to  its  rightful 
place  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  did  not  shrink 
from  the  conclusions  to  which  his  purpose  led.  His 
mind  was  too  clear  and  too  rigidly  logical  to  palter 
with  or  seek  to  veil  the  inevitable  results  of  the  policy 
he  supported.  As  he  wished  the  end,  he  was  too 
virile,  too  honest  in  his  mental  processes,  not  to  wish 
the  means  to  that  end.  The  war  left  a  legacy  of  debts 
and  bankruptcy,  and  in  dealing  with  these  problems 
it  was  Calhoun  who  reported  the  bill  for  a  new  Bank 
of  the  United  States,  who  sustained  the  tariff  of  1816, 
defended  the  policy  of  protection  to  manufactures, 
and  advocated  a  comprehensive  scheme  of  internal 
improvements. 

Then  it  was  that  he  declared  in  the  House  on  the  31st 
of  Januaiy,  1816,  when  he  reported  the  bill  setting 
aside  certain  funds  for  internal  improvements,  after 
urging  an  increase  of  the  army,  that  — 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  173 

As  to  the  species  of  preparation  ...  the  navy  most  cer- 
tainly, in  any  point  of  view,  occupies  the  first  place.  It  is  the 
most  safe,  most  effectual,  and  cheapest  mode  of  defence. 

In  1814  (Annals  of  Congress,  p.  1965)  he  said  in  re- 
gard to  manufactures  that  — 

He  hoped  at  all  times  and  under  every  policy  they  would  be 
protected  with  due  care. 

Two  years  later  he  returned  to  the  subject  as  a  part 
of  his  theory  of  the  national  defence  and  said: 

In  regard  to  the  question  how  far  manufactures  ought  to  be 
fostered,  it  is  the  duty  of  this  country,  as  a  means  of  defence, 
to  encourage  its  domestic  industry,  more  especially  that  part 
of  it  which  provides  the  necessary  materials  for  clothing  and  de- 
fence. .  .  .  The  question  relating  to  manufactures  must  not 
depend  on  the  abstract  principle  that  industry,  left  to  pursue 
its  own  course,  will  find  in  its  own  interests  all  the  encourage- 
ment that  is  necessary.  Laying  the  claims  of  manufacturers 
entirely  out  of  view,  on  general  principles,  without  regard  to 
their  interests,  a  certain  encouragement  should  be  extended,  at 
least  to  our  woollen  and  cotton  manufactures. 

At  the  close  of  the  same  year,  December  16,  1816 
(Annals  of  Congress,  1816-17,  pp.  853,  854),  he  said: 

Let  it jiot  be  forgotten,  jet  it  be  forever  kept  in  mind,  that 
the  extent  of  our  republic  exposes  us  to  the  greatest  of  all 
calamities,  next  to  the  loss  of  liberty,  and  even  to  that  m  its 
consequence  —  disunion.  We  are  great,  and  rapidly  — I  was 
about  to  say  fearfully  -  growing.  This  is  our  pride  and  danger, 
our  weakness  and  our  strength'.     Little  does  he  deserve  to  be 


174  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

intrusted  with  the  liberties  of  this  people  who  does  not  raise  ^ 
his  mind  to  these  truths.  We  are  under  the  most  imperious  ob- 
ligation to  counteract  every  tendency  to  disunion.  .  .  .  If 
...  we  permit  a  low,  sordid,  selfish,  and  sectional  spirit  to 
take  possession  of  this  House,  this  happy  scene  will  vanish. 
We  will  divide,  and  in  its  consequence  will  follow  misery  and 
despotism. 

A  little  more  than  a  month  later,  broadening  his 
theme,  to  which  he  constantly  recurred,  and  speaking 
of  internal  improvements  (February  4,  1817),  he  said: 

It  is  mainly  urged  that  Congress  can  only  apply  the  public 
money  in  execution  of  the  enumerated  powers.  I  am  no  ad- 
vocate for  refined  arguments  on  the  Constitution.  The  in- 
strument was  not  intended  as  a  thesis  for  the  logician  to  exer- 
cise his  ingenuity  on.  It  ought  to  be  construed  with  plain 
good  sense;  and  what  can  be  more  express  than  the  Constitu- 
tion on  this  point  ?  .  .  .  If  the  framers  had  intended  to  limit 
the  use  of  the  money  to  the  powers  afterward  enumerated  and 
defined  nothing  could  have  been  more  easy  than  to  have  ex- 
pressed it  plainly.  .  .  .  But  suppose  the  Constitution  to  be 
silent;  why  should  we  be  confined  in  the  application  of  moneys 
to  the  enumerated  powers  ?  There  is  nothing  in  the  reason  of 
the  thing  that  I  can  perceive  why  it  should  be  so  restricted; 
and  the  habitual  and  uniform  practice  of  the  government  co- 
incides with  my  opinion.  ...  In  reply  to  this  uniform  course 
of  legislation  I  expect  it  will  be  said  that  our  Constitution  is 
founded  on  positive  and  written  principles  and  not  on  prece- 
dents. I  do  not  deny  the  position,  but  I  have  introduced  these 
instances  to  prove  the  uniform  sense  of  Congress  and  the  coun- 
try —  for  they  have  not  been  objected  to  —  as  to  our  powers; 
and  surely  they  furnish  better  evidence  of  the  true  interpre- 
tation of  the  Constitution  than  the  most  refined  and  subtle 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  175 

arguments.  Let  it  not  be  argued  that  the  construction  for 
which  I  contend  gives  a  dangerous  extent  to  the  powers  of 
Congress.  In  this  point  of  view  I  conceive  it  to  be  more  safe 
than  the  opposite.  By  giving  a  reasonable  extent  to  the  money 
power  it  exempts  us  from  the  necessity  of  giving  a  strained  and 
forced  construction  to  the  other  enumerated  powers. 

From  the  House  of  Representatives  he  passed  to  the 
Cabinet  of  President  Monroe,  where  he  served  from 
1817  to  1825  as  secretary  of  war,  showing  high  capac- 
ity as  an  administrator.  He  took  the  department 
avowedly  as  a  reformer,  for  the  lesson  of  our  unreadi- 
ness and  our  lack  of  military  preparation  had  been 
burned  into  his  mind  by  the  bitter  experiences  of  the  j 
War  of  1812.  The  army  was  reduced  by  Congress  dur- 
ing his  tenure  of  office,  but  organization,  discipline,  and 
efficiency  were  all  advanced  by  his  well-directed  efforts. 

In  1825  Mr.  Calhoim  was  elected  vice-president, 
and  was  re-elected  four  years  later.  In  1832  he  re- 
signed the  vice-presidency  to  become  senator  from 
South  Carolina.  His  resignation,  followed  by  his  ac-"^^ 
ceptance  of  the  senatorship,  marks  his  pubhc  separa- 
tion from  the  poHcies  of  his  earlier  years  and  the  formal  j 
devotion  of  his  life  to  the  cause  of  states  rights  and 
slavery.  The  real  division  had  begun  some  years 
before  he  left  the  vice-presidency.  His  change  of 
attitude  culminated  in  his  support  of  nullification  and 
in  his  bitter  quarrel  with  Jackson,  which  was  all  the 
more  violent  because  they  were  of  the  same  race  and 


176  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

were  both  possessed  of  equal  strength  of  will  and  equal 
intensity  of  conviction. 

I  have  thus  referred  to  the  change  in  Mr.  Calhoun's 
position  solely  because  of  its  historical  significance, 
marking,  as  it  does,  the  beginning  of  a  new  epoch  in  the 
great  conflict  between  the  contending  principles  of  na- 
tionalism and  separatism.  In  his  own  day  he  was  ac- 
cused of  inconsistency,  and  the  charge  was  urged  and 
repelled  with  the  heat  usual  to  such  disputes.  Noth- 
ing, as  a  rule,  is  more  futile  or  more  utterly  unimpor- 
tant than  efforts  to  prove  inconsistency.  It  is  a 
favorite  resort  in  debate,  and  it  may  therefore  be  sup- 
posed that  it  is  considered  effective  in  impressing  the 
popular  mind.  Historically,  it  is  a  charge  which  has 
little  weight  unless  conditions  lend  it  an  importance 
which  is  never  inherent  in  the  mere  fact  itself.  If  no 
man  ever  changed  his  opinions,  if  no  one  was  open  to 
the  teachings  of  experience,  human  progress  would  be 
arrested  and  the  world  would  stagnate  in  an  intel- 
lectual lethargy.  Inconsistency  Emerson  has  de- 
clared to  be  the  bugbear  of  weak  minds,  and  this  is 
entirely  true  of  those  who,  dreading  the  accusation, 
shrink  from  adopting  an  opinion  or  a  faith  which  they 
believe  to  be  true,  but  to  which  they  have  formerly 
been  opposed.  Mr.  Calhoun  defined  inconsistency  long 
before  the  day  when  the  charge  was  brought  against 
him  with  that  fine  precision  of  thought  which  was  so 
characteristic  of  all  his  utterances. 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  177 

He  said  in  the  House  in  1814: 

Men  cannot  go  straight  forward  but  must  regard  the  ob-   /   I 
stacles  which  impede  their  course.     Inconsistency  consists  in  a  j 
change  of  conduct  when  there  is  no  change  of  circumstances  *  / 
which  justify  it. 

Tried  by  this  accurate  standard,  Mr.  Calhoun  is  as 
little  to  be  criticised  for  his  change  of  position  as  Mr. 
Webster  for  his  altered  attitude  in  regard  to  the  system 
of  protection.    With  the  new  conditions  and  new  cir- 
cumstances both  men  changed  on  important  questions 
of  policy,  and  both  were  justified  from  their  respective 
points  of  view  in  doing  so.    That  Mr.  Calhoun  went 
further  than  Mr.  Webster,  changing  not  only  as  to  a 
policy,  but  in  his  views  of  the  Constitution  and  the 
structure  of  government,  does  not  in  the  least  affect 
the  truth  of  the  general  proposition.    The  very  meas- 
ures which  he  had  once  fostered  and  defended  had 
brought  into  being  a  situation  which  he  felt  with  un- 
erring prescience  portended  the   destruction   of   the 
fundamental  principles  in  which  he  believed  and  of  a 
social  and  economic  system  which  he  thought  vital 
to  the  safety  and  prosperity  of  the  people  whom  he 
represented.    The  national  force  which  he  had  helped     j 
to  strengthen,  the  central  government  which  he  had     I 
so  powerfully  aided  to  build  up,  seemed  to  him  to  have 
become  like  the  creation  of  Frankenstein,  a  monster 
which  threatened  to  destroy  its  creators  and  all  he  , 


\ 


178  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

personally  held  most  dear.  It  was  inevitable  that  he 
should  strive  with  all  his  strength  to  stay  the  progress 
of  what  he  thought  would  bring  ruin  to  the  system  in 
which  he  believed.  Once  committed  to  this  opinion, 
he  was  incapable  of  finding  a  half-way  house  where 
he  could  rest  in  peace  or  a  compromise  which  he  could 
accept  with  confidence.  His  reason  carried  him  to 
the  inevitable  end  which  his  inexorable  logic  demanded, 
and  to  that  reason  and  that  logic  he  was  loyal  with 
all  the  loyalty  of  strong  conviction  and  an  honest 
mind.  There  is  no  need  to  discuss  either  the  sound- 
ness or  the  validity  of  the  opinions  he  held.  That  is 
a  question  which  has  long  since  passed  before  the  tri- 
bunal of  history.  All  that  concerns  us  to-day  is  to 
recall  the  manner  in  which  Calhoun  carried  on  his 
long  struggle  of  twenty-five  years  in  behalf  of  prin- 
ciples to  which  he  was  utterly  devoted.  He  brought 
to  the  conflict  remarkable  mental  and  moral  qual- 
ities, deep  conviction,  an  iron  will,  a  powerful  mind,  an 
unsparing  logic,  and  reasoning  powers  of  the  highest 
order.  Burr  said  that  any  one  who  went  onto  paper 
with  Alexander  Hamilton  was  lost.  Any  one  who 
admitted  Mr.  Calhoun's  premises  was  lost  in  like 
fashion.  Once  caught  in  the  grasp  of  that  penetrating 
and  relentless  intellect,  there  was  no  escape.  You  must 
go  with  it  to  the  end. 

He  fought  his  fight  with  unbending  courage,  asking 
no  quarter  and  giving  none.    He  flinched  from  no  con- 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  179 

elusion;  he  faced  every  result  without  change  or  con-,  j 

cession.    He  had  no  fear  of  the  opponents  who  met  himi ,  ^f^ 
in  debate.    He  felt  assured  in  his  own  heart  that  h$  S 
could  hold  his  own  against  all  comers.    But  he  must 
have  known,  for  he  was  not  a  man  who  ever  suffered 
from  self-deception,  that  the  enemies  whom  he  could 
not  overcome  were  beyond  the  range  of  argument  and 
debate.    The  unconquerable  foes  were  the  powerful 
and  silent  forces  of  the  time  of  which  the  great  uprising 
of  1848  in  behalf  of  political  liberty  was  but  a  mani- 
festation.   The  world  of  civilized  man  was  demanding 
a  larger  freedom,  and  slavery,  economically  unsound, 
was  a  survival  and  an  anachronism.    Even  more  for- 
midable was  the  movement  for  national  unity,  which 
was  world-wide.    It  was  stirring  in  Germany  and  was 
in  active  life  in  Italy.    The  principle  of  separatism, 
of  particularism,  was  at  war  with  the  spirit  of  the  time. 
The  stars  in  their  courses  fought  against  Sisera,  ancTv 
Calhoun,  with  his  keen  perceptions,  must  have  known^ 
in  his  heart  that  he  was  defending  his  cause  againstj 
hopeless  odds.    But  he  never  blenched  and  his  gallantj 
spirit  never  failed  or  yielded.    When  the  crisis  of 
1850  came.  Clay  brought  forward  his  last  and  most 
famous  compromise,  which  was  supported  by  Webster. 
The  two  Whig  leaders  were  filled  with  dread  as  they 
contemplated  the  perils  which  at  that  moment  men- 
aced the  Union  and  were  ready  to  go  far  on  the  road 
of  concession.    Calhoun,  then  nearing  his  death,  had 


180  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

no  faith  in  the  compromise.  He  saw  with  that  clear- 
ness of  vision  which  nothing  could  dim  that  in  the  exist- 
ing state  of  public  thought,  in  the  presence  of  the  aspi- 
rations for  freedom  and  national  unity  which  then  filled 
the  minds  of  men  throughout  the  world  of  western  civi- 
lization, no  compromise  such  as  Clay  proposed  could 
possibly  endure.  He  had  his  own  plan,  which  he  left  as 
a  legacy  to  his  country.  But  his  proposition  was  no 
compromise.  It  settled  the  question.  It  divided  the 
country  under  the  forms  of  law  and  made  the  national 
government  only  a  government  in  name.  The  solution 
was  complete,  but  it  was  impossible.  Clay's  compro- 
mise, as  ever}^  one  knows,  was  adopted.  There  was  a 
brief  lull,  and  then  the  mighty  forces  of  the  age  swept 
it  aside  and  pressed  forward  in  their  inevitable  conflict. 
I  think  Calhoun  understood  all  this,  which  is  so  plain 
now  and  was  so  hidden  then,  better  than  either  of  his 
great  opponents.  If  they  realized  the  situation  as  he 
did,  they  at  all  events  did  not  admit  it.  Clay,  with  the 
sanguine  courage  which  always  characterized  him,  with 
the  invincible  hopefulness  which  never  deserted  him, 
gave  his  last  years  to  his  supreme  effort  to  turn  aside 
the  menace  of  the  time  by  a  measure  of  mutual  conces- 
sion. Webster  sustained  Clay,  but  with  far  less  buoy- 
ancy of  spirit  or  of  hope.  Thus,  just  sixty  years  ago, 
they  all  stood  together  for  the  last  time,  these  three 
men  who  gave  their  names  to  an  epoch  in  our  history 
and  who  typified  in  themselves  the  tendencies  of  the 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  181 

time.    Before  two  years  more  had  passed  they  had  all 
three  gone,  and  the  curtain  had  fallen  on  that  act  of 
the  great  drama  in  which  they  had  played  the  leading 
parts.     It  is  a  moment  in  our  history  which  has  al- 
ways seemed  to  me  to  possess  an  irresistible  attraction. 
Not  merely  are  the  printed  records,  the  speeches  that 
were  then  made  and  the  memoirs  then  written,  of 
absorbing  interest,  but  the  men  themselves  not  only 
filled  but  looked  their  parts,  which  is  far  from  com- 
mon in  the  case  of  actors  in  the  never-ending  drama 
of  humanity.    They  all  look  in  their  portraits  as  imag- 
ination tells  us  they  should  look,  and  I  share  the  faith 
of  Carlyle  in  the  evidence  of  portraiture.     Over  the 
vigorous,  angular,  and  far  from  handsome  features  of 
Henry  Clay  is  spread  that  air  of  serenity  and  of  cheer- 
fulness which  was   one   among   the   many   qualities 
which  so  drew  to  him  the  fervent  affection  of  thousands 
of  men.    We  can  reahze,  as  we  study  his  portrait,  the 
fascination  which  attracted  people  to  him,  the  charm 
which  enabled  him,  as  one  of  his  admirers  said: 

"To  cast  off  his  friends  as  the  huntsman  his  pack, 
For  he  knew  when  he  pleased  he  could  whistle  them  back." 

A  gallant  soul,  an  inspiring  leader,  a  dashing,  win- 
ning, impulsive  nature,  brilHant  talents  —  I  think  one 
can  see  them  all  there  in  the  face  of  Henry  Clay. 
Turn  to  the  latest  portraits  of  Webster  and  Calhoun, 
and  you  pass  into  another  world.    They  are  two  of 


182  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

the  most  remarkable  heads,  two  of  the  most  striking, 
most  compelling  faces  in  the  long  annals  of  portraiture. 
They  are  widely  different,  so  far  as  the  outer  semblance 
is  concerned.  The  great  leonine  head  of  Webster, 
charged  with  physical  and  mental  strength,  the  massive 
jaw,  the  eyes,  as  Carlyle  said,  glowing  like  dull  an- 
thracite furnaces  beneath  the  heavy  brows,  seem  at 
the  first  glance  to  have  no  even  remote  resemblance 
to  the  haggard  face  of  Calhoun,  with  the  dark,  piercing, 
yet  sombre,  eyes  looking  out  from  cavernous  orbits, 
the  high,  intellectual  forehead,  the  stern,  strong  mouth 
and  jaw,  all  printed  deep  with  the  lines  of  suffering 
endured  in  silence.  But  if  we  look  again  and  consider 
more  deeply  we  can  see  that  there  is  a  likeness  between 
them.  The  last  photographs  of  Webster,  the  last  por- 
traits of  Calhoun,  show  us  a  certain  strong  re- 
semblance which  is  not,  I  think,  the  mere  creation  of 
a  fancy  bred  by  our  knowledge  of  the  time.  Both  are 
exceptionally  powerful  faces.  In  both  great  intellect, 
great  force,  and  the  pride  of  thought  are  apparent, 
and  both  are  deeply  tragic  in  their  expression.  It  is 
not  the  tragedy  of  disappointment  because  they  had 
failed  to  attain  the  office  which  was  the  goal  of  their 
ambition.  That  was  the  shallow  explanation  of  excited 
contemporary  judgment.  Personal  disappointment  does 
not,  and  cannot,  leave  the  expression  we  find  in  those 
two  faces.  There  is  a  "listening  fear  in  their  regard''; 
not  a  personal  fear  —  they  were  too  great  for  that  — 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  183 

but  a  dread  because  they  heard,  as  other  men  could  not 
hear,  the  hand  of  Fate  knocking  at  the  door.  The 
shadow  of  the  coming  woe  fell  darkly  across  their  last 
years,  and  the  tragedy  which  weighed  them  down  was 
the  tragedy  of  their  country.  It  was  thus  that  Web- 
ster looked  when,  in  the  7th  of  March  speech,  in  the 
great  passage  on  "peaceable  secession  "  he  cried  out  in 
agony  of  spirit: 

What  States  are  to  secede?  What  is  to  remain  American? 
What  am  I  to  be  ?  An  American  no  longer  ?  Am  I  to  become 
a  sectional  man,  a  local  man,  a  separatist,  with  no  country  in 
common  with  the  gentlemen  who  sit  around  me  here,  or  who  fill 
the  other  House  of  Congress  ?  Heaven  forbid !  Where  is  the 
flag  of  the  republic  to  remain?  Where  is  the  eagle  still  to 
tower  ?    Or  is  he  to  cower  and  shrink  and  fall  to  the  ground  ? 

However  Webster  and  Calhoun  disagreed,  they  both 
knew  that  the  Union  could  not  be  lightly  broken.  They 
knew  the  disruption  of  the  States  would  be  a  convul-  y 
sion.  They  foresaw  that  it  would  bring  war,  the  war 
which  Webster  predicted,  and  they  both  turned  with 
dread  from  the  vision  which  haunted  them.  J 

We  catch  the  same  note  in  the  words  of  Calhoun  on^ 
March  5,  1850,  when  he  declared,  "If  I  am  judged  by  ' 
my  acts,  I  trust  I  shall  be  found  as  firm  a  friend  of 
the  Union  as  any  man  within  it.'^  Despite  all  he  had^ 
said  and  done,  he  still  clung  to  the  Union  he  had( 
served  so  long,  and  when  as  the  month  closed  and  he  ^ 
lay  upon  his  deathbed  the  thought  of  the  future,  dark 


/" 


184  JOHN  C.  CALHOUN 

^  '  with  menace,  was  still  with  him,  and  he  was  heard 
to  mm-mur:  "The  South!  The  poor  South!  God 
knows  what  will  become  of  her." 

^  So  they  passed  away,  the  three  great  senators,  and 
the  vast  silent  forces  which  moved  mankind  and  set- 
tled the  fate  of  nations  marched  forward  to  their  pre- 
destined end. 

We  do  well  to  place  here  a  statue  of  Calhoun.  I 
would  that  he  could  stand  with  none  but  his  peers 
about  him  and  not  elbowed  and  crowded  by  the  tem- 
porarily notorious  and  the  illustrious  obscure.  His 
statue  is  here  of  right.  He  was  a  really  great  man, 
one  of  the  conspicuous  figm-es  of  our  history.    In  that 

!  history  he  stands  out  clear,  distinct,  commanding. 
There  is  no  trace  of  the  demagogue  about  him.  He 
was  a  bold  as  well  as  a  deep  thinker,  and  he  had  to 
the  full  the  courage  of  his  convictions.  The  doctrines 
of  socialism  were  as  alien  to  him  as  the  worship  of 

"commercialism.  He  "raised  his  mind  to  truths."  He 
believed  that  statesmanship  must  move  on  a  high 
plane,  and  he  could  not  conceive  that  mere  money- 

/  making  and  money-spending  were  the  highest  objects 

^of  ambition  in  the  lives  of  men  or  nations. 

He  was  the  greatest  man  South  Carolina  has  given 
to  the  nation.  That  in  itself  is  no  slight  praise,  for 
from  the  days  of  the  Laurenses,  the  Pinckneys,  and  the 
Rutledges,  from  the  time  of  Moultrie  and  Sumter  and 
Marion  to  the  present  day.  South  Carolina  has  always 


JOHN  C.  CALHOUN  185 

been  conspicuous  in  peace  and  war  for  the  force,  the 
ability,  and  the  character  of  the  men  who  have  served 
her  and  given  to  her  name  its  high  distinction  in  our 
history.    But  Calhoun  was  much  more  even  than  this. 
He  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men,, one  of  the 
keenest  minds,  that  American  public  life  can  show. 
It  matters  not  that  before  the  last  tribunal  the  ver- 
dict went  against  him,  that  the  extreme  doctrines  to 
</     which   his   imperious   logic   carried   him   have   been 
\     banned  and  barred,  the  man  remains  greatly  placed  in 
/     our  history.    The  unyielding  courage,  the  splendid  in- 
tellect, the  long  devotion  to  the  public  service,  the 
pure  unspotted  private  life,  are  all  there,  are  all  here 
with  us  now,  untouched  and  unimpaired  for  after  ages 
to  admire. 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

In  the  preface  to  his  edition  of  Shakespeare,  which 
is  as  entertaining  as  it  is  neglected,  Doctor  Johnson 
says  in  his  finest  manner:  "The  poet  of  whose  work  I 
have  undertaken  the  revision  may  now  begin  to  as- 
sume the  dignity  of  an  ancient  and  claim  the  privilege 
of  established  fame  and  prescriptive  veneration.  He 
has  long  outlived  his  century,  the  term  commonly 
fixed  as  the  test  of  literary  merit/' 

I  have  often  thought  that  if  the  period  of  time  fixed 
by  Doctor  Johnson  as  the  test  of  literary  merit  were 
applied  in  certain  other  directions,  it  might  be  pro- 
ductive of  good  results.  For  instance,  if  the  lapse  of 
a  century  were  made  the  condition  precedent  for  the 
erection  of  statues  and  monuments,  we  should  not 
only  be  spared  some  painful  works  of  art,  but  we  should 
not  have  so  many  bronze  figures  which  in  much  less 
than  a  hundred  years  require  an  explanation  of  their 
existence.  Local  pride,  personal  affection,  and  the 
first  outburst  of  grief  are  not  always  safe  guides  in 
determining  either  literary  merit  or  the  permanent 
position  of  any  man  in  the  history  of  his  time.  In  the 
first  few  months  or  years  after  a  man's  death  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  get  a  true  historical  perspective,  and  the  nat- 

186 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  187 

ural  feelings  of  the  moment  are  apt  to  distort  our 
vision.  These  natural  feelings,  however,  are  not  to 
be  denied,  and  the  temporarily  distinguished  will  con- 
tinue to  receive  their  share  of  monuments,  which  in 
such  cases  ought  certainly  to  be  formed  of  material 
no  more  enduring  than  the  fame  of  their  subjects. 

Yet,  after  all,  these  lasting  memorials  of  the  ephem- 
eral are  only  a  part  of  those  which  either  decorate  or 
cumber  i  the  earth.  Many,  perhaps  most,  would  be 
erected  even  if  Doctor  Johnson's  test  of  literary  merit 
were  strictly  enforced.  The  instinct  of  humanity  for 
the  really  great,  for  the  man  who  has  made  an  in- 
effaceable mark  on  the  history  of  his  time,  who  has 
done  some  worthy  deed  or  rendered  some  lasting  serv- 
ice, is  generally  sound  and  true  when  death  has 
once  set  all  things  even.  This  is  conspicuously  the 
case  with  the  statue  of  Mr.  Reed  which  has  recently 
been  unveiled  in  Portland  with  appropriate  ceremonies 
and  with  an  excellent  address  by  Mr.  McCall,  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

Thomas  Brackett  Reed  was  not  only  a  distin- 
guished, but  he  was  also  a  remarkable  man  —  remark- 
able and  unusual  both  in  intellect  and  character. 
He  left  a  deep  mark  on  the  history  of  his  time,  and  he 
rendered  a  very  great  public  service  in  rescuing  the 
House  of  Representatives  from  the  condition  of  help- 
less inanity  into  which  it  had  fallen  and  by  which  the 
right  of  the  majority  to  rule  and  the  responsibility, 


188  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

without  which  representative  government  must  /ail, 
had  both  been  well-nigh  destroyed.  Rules  devised 
originally  to  facilitate  business  and  to  give  reasonable 
protection  to  the  rights  of  the  minority,  which  under  the 
old  and  less  crowded  conditions  were  both  suitable  and 
unabused,  had  gradually  been  perverted  until  public 
business  was  at  a  standstill,  and  the  power  to  arrest 
all  action  had  passed  to  an  irresponsible  minority,  a 
contradiction  of  the  first  principles  of  free  government. 
Neither  the  evil  nor  the  cure  was  peculiar  to  the  United 
States.  The  House  of  Commons  passed  through  the 
same  ordeal  and  was  rescued  in  the  same  way,  with 
one  important  difference.  In  England  the  quorum  of 
the  Commons  consists  of  forty  members,  so  small  a 
number  that  it  was  useless  as  a  weapon  for  obstruc- 
tion. With  us  a  majority  quorum  is  required  by  the 
Constitution,  and  refusing  a  quorum  was  the  chief 
means  of  thwarting  action.  Mr.  Reed  met  the  difficulty 
by  boldly  counting  those  present  to  make  a  quorum 
whether  they  voted  or  not.  It  required  nerve  and 
courage  to  do  it,  and  his  action  unchained  a  storm. 
He  did  not  falter  for  a  moment,  and  carried  his  point, 
destroying  the  chief  stronghold  of  obstruction  at  a 
blow.  He  was  right  in  common  sense  as  well  as  legally 
and  constitutionally.  The  Supreme  Com't  sustained 
him,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  political 
opponents  adopt  his  rules. 
The  fact  was  that  the  old  parliamentary  systems 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  189 

in  both  England  and  the  United  States,  which  were 
adapted  to  simpler  conditions  of  business,  society,  and 
politics,  were  not  only  outworn,  but  had  become  a 
menace  to  free  government.  Mr.  Reed  destroyed  the 
evil  and  established  a  new  system.  He  had  the  loyal 
support  of  all  his  party  associates;  but  it  was  he  who 
did  it,  he  alone,  and  I  know  of  no  other  man  then  in 
public  life  who  could  have  done  it.  His  great  ability 
was  well  known,  but  the  patience,  the  calm,  unflinch- 
ing courage,  the  force  of  character  which  he  displayed 
through  all  those  trying  weeks  and  months,  and  which 
were  less  generally  understood,  compelled  the  admira- 
tion even  of  his  opponents. 

I  followed  and  watched  him  through  all  that  session 
of  bitter  conflict  and  stormy  attack.  Not  only  did  he 
exhibit  throughout  the  qualities  I  have  mentioned, 
but,  although  he  was  capable  of  wrath  and  strongly 
combative,  I  never  saw  his  good-nature  fail  or  his 
ready  wit  turn,  as  it  might  well  have  done,  to  anger 
and  fierce  denunciation.  I  remember  that,  one  even- 
ing, when  obstruction  had  been  employed  for  hours 
to  prevent  a  vote,  and  everybody  was  tired  and  in  a 
bad  temper,  I  went  up  to  the  Speaker's  desk  and  asked 
how  long  this  business  was  to  last.  Mr.  Reed,  per- 
fectly unruffled,  turned  around  with  a  pleasant  smile 
and  said:  '^We  shall  get  a  vote  in  about  an  hour. 
Springer  has  only  two  more  pieces  in  his  repertoire.'' 

My  friend  and  colleague,  the  late  Governor  Green- 


190  THOMAS  BRACKETT  EEED 

haJge,  in  one  of  the  many  heated  debates  of  that  winter 
quoted  Tennyson^s  famous  lines,  and  never  were  they 
more  aptly  applied  than  when  he  referred  to  Mr.  Reed 

as: 

"  One  still,  strong  man  in  a  blatant  land, 
Whatever  they  call  him,  what  care  I, 
Aristocrat,  democrat,  autocrat  —  one 
Who  can  rule  and  dare  not  lie." 

Not  only  was  he  at  that  moment  the  "still  strong 
man,"  but  he  was  then  and  always  a  man  who  "dared 
not"  and  could  not  lie  either  to  himself  or  to  others. 
No  leader  was  ever  more  loyally  followed  by  his  party 
or  more  deeply  respected  by  the  House  at  large  than 
was  Mr.  Reed;  yet  he  never  stooped  to  curry  favor 
with  the  House  nor  did  he  hesitate  to  rebuke  it.  I 
remember  well,  on  one  occasion  when  he  thought  that 
the  House  was  acting  or  was  about  to  act  in  a  cowardly 
manner,  how  he  told  them  in  the  phrase  of  the  weather 
bureau  that  he  had  never  regarded  the  House  as  a 
"courage  centre,"  but  that  this  special  weakness  went 
beyond  all  limits. 

The  reform  of  the  rules  was  a  great  achievement, 
pre-eminently  the  achievement  of  a  statesman  of  high 
order,  who  looked  before  and  after.  The  word  "  states- 
man," however,  especially  in  connection  with  Mr.  Reed 
himself,  cannot  be  used  without  at  once  recalling  his 
famous  definition.  I  happened  to  sit  next  to  him  in 
the  House,  and  he  showed  me  the  letter  asking  him  to 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  191 

define  a  statesman,  and  his  reply,  "A  statesman  is  a 
successful  politician  who  is  dead.''  The  epigram  was 
published,  flew  over  the  country,  and  has  become  a 
familiar  quotation.  But  the  sequel  is  less  well  known. 
The  correspondent  who  asked  the  question  telegraphed 
as  soon  as  he  received  the  answer,  "Why  don't  you 
die  and  become  a  statesman?"  Mr.  Reed  handed  me 
the  telegram  and  said:  "Here  is  my  answer:  'No. 
Fame  is  the  last  infirmity  of  noble  mind.'  "  It  was  ex- 
tremely unsafe  to  enter  with  Mr.  Reed  upon  the  ex- 
change of  sallies  and  retorts,  so  beloved  of  Mrs.  Wil- 
fer's  copper-plate  engravers. 

The  first  time  I  met  him  was  in  1881,  at  Worcester. 
He  had  come  to  address  our  State  convention,  but  the 
news  of  Garfield's  death  had  just  arrived,  and  it  was 
felt  that  nothing  should  be  done  except  the  absolutely 
necessary  business,  and  that,  after  adopting  appro- 
priate resolutions,  the  convention  should  at  once  ad- 
journ. To  Mr.  Reed,  who  had  come  from  Maine  on 
our  invitation  to  make  a  speech,  the  situation  was  a 
difficult  one,  but  of  course  he  assented  to  the  wishes  of 
the  committee.  I  can  see  him  now  as  he  sat  in  the 
little  anteroom,  looking  like  a  giant,  and  seeming  to 
fill  the  room  with  his  presence.  His  personaHty,  both 
physical  and  mental,  was  so  large  and  so  powerful  that 
when,  in  any  connection  or  for  any  reason,  I  recall 
him  or  anything  he  said,  I  not  only  see  him  with  the 
utmost  vividness,  but  the  whole  scene  rises  in  memory, 


192  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

whether  it  was  in  the  Capitol  or  in  a  house,  on  the 
street  or  in  the  country,  in  a  crowd  or  in  soHtude,  that 
the  incident  occurred.  Memory  is  dominated  by  that 
commanding  figure  and  by  the  sense  of  power  and 
force  which  went  with  it. 

After  that  first  meeting,  I  met  Mr.  Reed  from  time 
to  time,  and  in  1884  I  recall  coming  across  him  one  day 
in  State  Street  just  after  the  nomination  of  Mr.  Blaine. 
The  break  in  the  Republican  party  had  begun,  and  I 
asked  Mr.  Reed  what  he  thought  of  the  outlook. 
^'Well,''  he  said,  "it  is  a  great  comfort  to  think  that 
the  wicked  politicians  were  not  allowed  to  pick  the 
candidate  and  that  the  nomination  was  made  by  the 
people.  The  politicians  would  have  been  guided  only 
by  a  base  desire  to  win." 

After  this  chance  meeting  I  saw  Mr.  Reed  more  and 
more  frequently  until  I  went  to  Congress  in  1887,  and 
then  I  was  in  his  company  every  day  and  became  not 
only  intimate  with  him,  but  very  fond  of  him;  for  he 
was  capable  of  inspiring  the  warmest  affection  in  the 
friends  to  whom  he  was  attached.  The  general  public, 
which  fully  recognized  Mr.  Reed^s  great  intellectual 
force,  which  delighted  to  repeat  his  witticisms,  and  which 
rejoiced  in  his  powers  in  debate  and  in  seeing  him  over- 
whelm his  antagonists,  did  not  realize,  I  think,  and 
perhaps  it  was  impossible  that  they  should  reahze,  the 
warmth  of  his  affection,  the  loyalty  of  his  nature,  and 
the  tenderness  and  sympathy  shown  not  only  to  those 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  193 

for  whom  he  cared,  but  for  all  who  sorrowed  or  were 
heavy-laden.  I  have  no  doubt  that  these  qualities 
which  were  so  apparent  to  me  were  hidden  to  the 
world  by  the  reserve  characteristic  of  the  race  from 
which  Mr.  Reed  sprang  —  a  race  which  shrinks  from 
any  easy  or  noisy  display  of  emotion,  but  whose  feel- 
ings are  perhaps  deeper  and  stronger  because  habitually 
repressed. 

For  Mr.  Reed  was  a  typical  New  Englander  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  word.  He  was  typical  in  every 
way,  in  his  intellect,  in  his  character,  in  his  reserve, 
in  the  depth  of  his  feelings,  and  in  his  independence  of 
thought  and  action.  He  came  rightly  by  it,  for  he  was 
of  pure  New  England  stock.  He  was  a  Hneal  descend- 
ant of  George  Cleve,  or  Cleaves,  the  first  settler  in 
the  Portland  region,  and  took  a  keen  delight  in  that 
old  Puritan's  troubles  with  the  constituted  authorities. 

He  was  born,  brought  up,  and  educated  in  Maine, 
and  was  as  representative  of  his  State  as  he  was  of  his 
race.  I  beheve  the  house  in  which  he  was  born  still 
stands.  At  all  events,  it  was  in  existence  not  long  ago, 
and  while  he  was  Speaker  some  one  sent  him  a  photo- 
graph of  it.  His  secretary  and  successor  in  Congress, 
Mr.  Allen,  brought  it  to  him  and  said,  '^  That's  a  pretty 
good  house  to  have  been  born  in.'' 

Mr.  Reed  looked  at  it  and  said,  ''Yes,  Amos;  but, 
you  see,  I  was  not  born  in  all  that  house,"  pointing  to 
an  addition  made  since  his  time. 


194  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

"Even  then,"  said  Mr.  Allen,  "it  is  a  pretty  good 
house  to  have  been  born  in." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Reed,  "but  still  I  was  not  born  in 
more  than  two  or  three  rooms  of  it." 

There,  in  the  city  of  his  birth,  he  went  to  school, 
and  thence  to  Bowdoin  College,  and  then  after  a  year 
or  two  of  teaching  he  entered  the  navy  for  service  in 
the  Civil  War.  When  the  war  ended  he  betook  him- 
self to  California  with  a  vague  plan  of  settling  in  that 
new  country.  He  used  to  tell  with  intense  delight  of 
his  examination  for  admission  to  the  bar  of  California. 
A  young  Southerner  came  before  the  judge  for  examina- 
tion at  the  same  time.  The  judge  asked  the  Southerner 
if  the  legal-tender  acts  were  constitutional,  and  the 
young  man  answered  without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
"No."  Then  the  judge  turned  to  Mr.  Reed  and  asked 
him  the  same  question.  Mr.  Reed  with  equal  prompt- 
ness answered,  "Yes." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  judge,  "you  are  both  admitted. 
Two  men  who  can  answer  that  question  without  hesi- 
tation ought  to  be  admitted  to  any  bar." 

Mr.  Reed  did  not  remain  long  in  California.  He 
returned  to  Maine,  began  the  practice  of  the  law  in 
Portland,  rose  rapidly  to  the  front  rank  of  his  profes- 
sion, became  attorney-general,  and  in  1876  was  elected 
to  Congress  from  the  Portland  district.  He  had  been 
ten  years  in  Congress  when  I  became  a  member,  and 
was  the  recognized  leader  of  the  Republican  minority. 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  195 

On  the  first  day  after  we  had  been  sworn  in,  the 
usual  drawing  for  seats  took  place.  I  was  standing 
beside  Mr.  Reed  behind  the  rail,  and  we  waited  pa- 
tiently while  all  the  names  seemed  to  be  called  out 
except  ours.  It  was  painfully  evident  that  we  should 
be  among  the  last  and  should  draw  very  poor  seats. 
I  said  to  Mr.  Reed  that  our  luck  seemed  pretty  bad. 
"Yes,"  he  said,  "the  great  trouble  with  this  system  is 
that  it  is  so  diabohcally  fair." 

Not  long  afterward,  in  the  allotment  of  committee 
places,  I  found  myself  a  member  of  the  Committee  on 
Elections.  We  began  at  once  to  report  our  findings, 
and  one  day  when  we  had  called  up  a  case  Mr.  Reed 
came  into  the  House  and  happened  to  ask  me  what 
was  going  on.  I  said,  "An  election  case,"  and  started 
to  explain  it.  "No  explanation  is  necessary,"  said  Mr. 
Reed;  "the  House  never  divides  on  strictly  partisan 
lines  except  when  it  is  acting  judicially." 

For  six  years  I  served  with  Mr.  Reed  in  the  House, 
and  during  that  time  he  was  for  four  years  the  leader 
of  the  minority  and  for  two  years  Speaker.  He  was 
easily  the  greatest  parliamentary  leader  I  ever  saw. 
I  fully  appreciate  the  truth  of  Emerson's  doctrine  of 
the  force  of  understatement,  but  I  cannot  express  my 
own  belief  in  regard  to  Mr.  Reed  without  also  saying 
that  in  my  opinion  there  never  has  been  a  greater  or 
more  perfectly  equipped  leader  in  any  parliamentary 
body  at  any  period.    This  conviction  has  only  deepened 


196  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

with  time  and  it  seems  to  me  now,  when  the  contests 
in  which  he  engaged  have  long  since  passed  into  his- 
toiy,  that  Mr.  Reed  possessed  in  the  highest  degree 
all  the  qualities  necessary  for  leadership  in  a  great 
representative  body  controlled  by  the  party  system, 
which  is  common  to  this  comitiy  and  to  Great  Britain. 
In  the  first  place,  he  was  a  master  of  parliamentaiy 
practice.  He  not  only  knew  thoroughly  the  compli- 
cated rules  of  the  House,  but,  what  is  even  rarer,  he 
was  equally  master  of  general  parliamentary  law  and 
understood,  as  very  few  men  do,  the  theory  and 
philosophy  of  the  system.  His  mind  was  at  once  acute 
and  broad.  Acuteness  will  make  a  man  very  effective 
on  the  countless  points  which  arise  from  a  complicated 
system  of  procedure,  but  mere  acuteness  is  not  enough 
to  constitute  a  great  parliamentarian.  There  must  be 
in  addition  a  knowledge  of  general  parliamentary  law 
and  a  full  understanding  of  the  fact  that  the  system 
is  not  a  haphazard  collection  of  precedents,  but  that 
it  rests  upon  broad  principles,  and  aims  at  well-defined 
objects.  These  conditions  Mr.  Reed  fulfilled  in  the 
largest  measure,  and  it  was  his  complete  mastery  of 
the  whole  science,  as  well  as  his  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  rules,  which  enabled  him  to  carry  through  his 
great  reform.  It  was  essential  to  his  success  that  the 
House  should  have  no  doubt  of  the  fact  that  no  one 
on  the  floor  was  the  equal  of  the  chair  in  dealing  with 
a  question  of  parliamentary  law.    It  was  in  the  chair 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  197 

therefore  that  his  powerful  grasp  of  the  subject  and 
his  immense  knowledge  came  fully  into  play,  for  as 
leader  of  the  minority  he  had  no  taste  for  obstruction  or 
for  making  petty  points  which  are  such  irresistible  temp- 
tations to  the  sharp  but  small  practitioner.  Yet  al- 
though he  did  not  indulge  in  little  points  himself,  he 
fought  in  the  minority  as  he  did  in  power  against  any 
abuse  of  the  rules,  and  he  resented  strongly  any  effort 
to  achieve  a  partisan  advantage  by  an  improper  ruling. 
Such  efforts  roused  his  indignation  not  merely  from 
party  interest,  but  because  he  could  not  endure  viola- 
tions of  the  general  principles  upon  which  all  parlia- 
mentary law  rests. 

One  day  in  a  parliamentary  discussion  some  one 
cited  a  ruling  and  attributed  it  to  Mr.  Carlisle,  for 
whose  eminent  abilities  both  as  a  lawyer  and  as  a 
parhamentarian  Mr.  Reed,  like  all  the  rest  of  us,  had 
the  highest  respect.  Mr.  Reed  at  once  rose.  '^That 
ruling,'^  he  said,  "was  not  made  by  the  Speaker. 
When  the  Speaker  permits  such  a  ruling  as  that  to  be 
made,  he  yields  the  chair  to  the  gentleman  from  Il- 
linois. He  has  too  much  respect  for  the  rules  of  this 
House  and  for  parhamentary  law  to  make  such  a  ruling 
himself." 

But  it  was  as  a  leader  in  debate  that  Mr.  Reed  was 
at  his  best.  He  was  the  finest,  the  most  effective  de- 
bater that  I  have  ever  seen  or  heard.  His  readiness 
was  very  remarkable.    I  never  saw  him  at  a  loss.    He 


198  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

had  a  greater  power  of  stating  a  case  unanswerably 
in  a  few  words  than  any  man  I  have  ever  known. 
His  presence  of  mind  never  failed,  and  I  do  not  recall 
an  occasion  when  he  was  obliged  to  explain  or  retreat 
from  a  position  suddenly  taken,  a  mishap  which  may 
happen  to  the  best  and  most  competent  of  leaders. 
With  his  exceptional  capacity  for  terse,  forcible,  and 
lucid  statement  was  joined  the  unrivalled  power  of  re- 
tort for  which  he  was  famous.  His  mind  worked  with 
astonishing  rapidity,  and  his  natural  originality  of 
thought  enabled  him  always  to  take  the  unexpected  in 
an  unex-pected  way.  When  he  stood  up,  waiting  for  an 
opponent  to  conclude,  filling  the  narrow  aisle,  with  his 
hands  resting  upon  a  desk  on  each  side,  with  every  trace 
of  expression  banished  from  his  face,  and  looking  as  if 
he  had  not  an  idea  and  hardly  heard  what  was  being 
said,  then  was  he  most  dangerous.  Then  I  knew  that, 
like  Lord  Thurlow,  who  was  said,  when  he  rose  from 
the  woolsack,  to  have  looked  like  Jove  when  he  grasped 
the  thunder,  Mr.  Reed  was  ready  to  launch  a  bolt 
which  would  make  its  victim  remember  that  day's 
battle  with  lasting  regret.  The  House  of  Represent- 
atives, like  the  House  of  Commons,  loves  and  follows 
the  man  who  shows  it  sport,  and  that  Mr.  Reed 
never  failed  to  do.  Whether  it  was  the  condensed, 
lucid  statement  to  which  it  was  an  intellectual  pleasure 
to  listen,  or  fun  in  which  he  abounded,  or  ridicule  of 
which  he  was  past  master,  or  wit  and  sarcasm  which 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  199 

cut  and  scarred  when  it  fell  like  the  lash  of  a  whip, 
the  House  was  never  disappointed  and  was  well  aware 
of  the  fact.  One  of  his  retorts,  so  well  known  that  it 
is  a  household  word,  illustrates  his  quickness  as  well 
as  any  other.  Mr.  Springer,  of  Illinois,  was  declaring 
with  large  and  loud  solemnity  that,  in  the  words  of 
Henry  Clay,  ''he  had  rather  be  right  than  be  Presi- 
dent." ''The  gentleman  need  not  be  disturbed,"  in- 
terjected Mr.  Reed,  "he  never  will  be  either."  Hardly 
a  day  passed  that  a  repartee  of  this  kind  did  not  fall 
from  his  lips,  and  they  belonged  to  that  small  class 
of  witty  retorts  which  cannot  in  the  nature  of  things 
have  been  prepared  and  which  fly  out  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment  like  the  sparks  from  an  anvil. 

He  was  particularly  strong  in  debate  under  the  five- 
minute  rule,  which  puts  a  debater's  powers  to  the 
severest  test.  To  make  a  point  and  an  effective  state- 
ment in  five  minutes  demands  much  skill.  Mr.  Reed 
had  himself  a  perfect  conception  both  of  the  difiiculties 
and  opportunities  of  the  five-minute  debate.  I  re- 
member his  saying  to  my  friend  John  Russell  of  my 
own  State,  a  very  clever  and  most  delightful  man: 
"Russell,  you  do  not  understand  the  theory  of  five- 
minute  debate.  The  object  is  to  convey  to  the  House 
in  the  space  of  five  minutes  either  information  or 
misinformation.  You  have  consumed  several  periods 
of  five  minutes  this  afternoon  v^dthout  doing  either." 

Mr.  Reed,  like  most  men  of  vigorous  nature,  was  a 


200  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

strong  partisan,  and  in  the  conflicts  of  party  he  was 
very  formidable,  for  his  attacks  upon  his  political  op- 
ponents were  severe  and  always  pushed  home.  But 
what  stirred  his  wrath  was  anything  which  seemed  to 
him  mean  or  underhand.  He  was  a  good  hater  and  he 
detested  shams,  humbug,  and  pretence  above  everything 
else.  If  he  saw  these  qualities  in  a  man,  he  was  un- 
forgiving. There  was  a  Democratic  member  con- 
spicuous in  my  time  who,  in  Mr.  Reed's  opinion,  came 
within  this  class.  He  was  a  large,  fine-looking,  and 
distinctly  able  man.  It  was  said  that  he  was  un- 
scrupulous politically,  and  he  was  certainly  a  danger- 
ous antagonist.  He  spoke  with  an  affectation  of  great 
frankness  and  honesty,  and  he  was  very  fond  of  the 
words  "candor"  and  "candid,'^  which  gave  especial 
offence  to  Mr.  Reed.  They  had  many  encounters,  and, 
able  as  our  "candid"  friend  was,  he  was  always  worst- 
ed. I  was  standing  by  one  day  when  he  came  over 
and  expostulated  with  Mr.  Reed  on  his  severity,  which 
led  only  to  a  frank  expression  of  Mr.  Reed's  opinion 
of  him  and  his  methods.  At  last  this  member  died 
and  in  due  time  was  eulogized  in  both  Houses.  Just 
after  the  eulogies,  some  friends  of  mine  came  to  Wash- 
ington from  Boston,  and  I  invited  Reed  and  McKinley 
and  some  others  to  meet  them  at  dinner.  The  con- 
versation turned  on  the  subject  of  the  recent  eulogies. 
Mr.  Reed  gave  his  opinion  and  account  of  the  deceased 
member  in  his  usual  incisive  way,  and  then  said: 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  201 

"There  are  those  who  beheve  that  the  spirits  of  the 

departed  are  all  about  us.    I  trust  the  spirit  of 

is  here  to-night,  for  I  should  like  him  to  hear  once 
more  the  opinion  of  him  and  his  performances  which  I 
have  so  often  expounded  to  him  in  public  and  private 
during  his  life." 

The  wit  and  humor  were  not  carefully  kept  for 
public  display  or  for  the  exigencies  of  debate.  Mr. 
Reed  did  not  lay  his  ''good  things''  aside  for  use  only 
in  public.  They  came  as  readily  and  generously  in 
private  and  in  talk  with  a  single  friend.  I  remember 
one  which  illustrates  the  readiness  that  never  failed, 
and  which  I  will  venture  to  repeat. 

It  was  after  a  dinner-party.  The  conversation  had 
turned  on  gambling  and  betting.  Mr.  X  said:  ''It 
is  a  curious  thing,  perhaps,  but  I  never  made  a  bet  on 
a  horse,  a  card,  or  anything  else  in  my  Hfe." 

To  this  a  senator  replied  with  great  earnestness:  "I 
wish  I  could  say  that." 

"Why  can't  you?"  asked  Mr.  Reed.    "X  did." 
There  was  no  one  Mr.  Reed  respected  more  than  Mr. 
X,  but  that  could  not  stay  the  jest. 

Yet  it  would  be  a  great  misconception  of  Mr.  Reed 
to  suppose  that  the  deep  humor  and  the  quick  wit  for 
which  he  was  famous  were  his  chief  attributes,  or  that 
they  were  used  merely  to  bring  laughter  or  to  furnish 
a  telling  retort  in  debate  or  conversation.  They  were 
only  two  of  the  weapons  in  his  large  intellectual  ar- 


202  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

mory,  and,  if  the  most  frequently  used,  were  by  no 
means  the  most  important.  He  could  truly  have  said 
with  Doctor  Holmes: 

"  While  my  gay  stanza  pleased  the  banquet's  lords, 
My  soul  within  was  tuned  to  deeper  chords." 

In  addition  to  the  power  of  orderly,  effective,  un- 
answerable statement  of  a  proposition,  he  could  make 
a  great  argument  on  a  great  subject.  He  rose  to  the 
heights  in  the  denunciation  of  wrong  or  wrong-doing 
and  in  the  advocacy  of  what  he  believed  to  be  right. 
In  his  long  speeches,  of  which  he  was  very  sparing,  the 
humor,  the  sarcasm,  and  the  wit  were  all  present, 
flashing  out  and  illuminating  his  subject,  but  they  went 
deeper  than  laughter,  and  carried  profound  reflection 
with  them. 

In  the  course  of  his  speech  closing  the  debate  on  the 
Mills  Bill,  May  19,  1888,  for  the  Republican  side,  he 
said: 

After  all,  this  exaggerated  idea  of  the  profits  of  manufac- 
turers is  at  the  bottom  of  the  chairman's  feelings.  Whenever 
I  walk  through  the  streets  of  that  democratic  importing  city 
of  New  York  and  look  at  the  brownstone  fronts  my  gorge  al- 
ways rises.  I  can  never  understand  why  the  virtue  which  I 
know  is  on  the  sidewalk  is  not  thus  rewarded.  I  do  not  feel 
kindly  to  the  people  inside.  But  when  I  feel  that  way  I  know 
what  the  feeling  is.  It  is  good,  honest,  high-minded  envy. 
When  some  other  gentlemen  have  the  same  feeling  they  think 
it's  political  economy. 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  203 

Here  is  an  apt  illustration  not  only  of  his  wit  but 
the  more  penetrating  touch  which  in  a  sentence  un- 
covers a  common  foible  of  human  nature. 

A  little  later  in  the  same  speech  occurs  another  pas- 
sage which  I  will  give  in  full  because  it  is  such  an  ex- 
cellent illustration  of  Mr.  Reed's  power  of  ridiculing 
with  all  the  resources  of  rhetoric  a  sham  which  he 
hated  and  which  his  illustrations  and  similes  exposed 
by  the  law  of  contrasts : 

"  Monopoly,"  said  Horace  Greeley,  a  doctor  of  laws,  and  once 
a  candidate  of  the  Democratic  party  for  the  presidency,  "  mon- 
opoly is,  perhaps,  the  most  perverted  and  misapplied  word  in 
our  much-abused  mother  tongue/'  How  very  tame  this  lan- 
guage is.  I  suppose  that  during  the  ten  years  last  past  I  have 
listened  in  this  hall  to  more  idiotic  raving,  more  pestiferous 
rant  on  that  subject  than  on  all  the  others  put  together.  And 
yet  I  do  not  regret  it.  What  a  beautiful  sight  it  is  to  see  the 
revenue-reform  orator  go  into  action  against  monopoly.  Nel- 
son, as  he  stood  blazing  with  decorations  on  the  decks  of  the 
Victory  on  the  fatal  day  of  Trafalgar;  Napoleon  at  Friedland, 
as  the  Guard  went  cheering  and  charging  by;  Thomas  Sayers, 
as  he  stripped  for  the  championship  of  England  when  Heenan 
had  crossed  the  lifting  waters;  the  eagle  soaring  to  his  eyrie; 
the  royal  man-eating  Bengal  tiger  in  his  native  jungle;  nay, 
the  very  bull  himself,  the  strong  bull  of  Bashan,  as  he  uplifts 
his  bellow  over  the  rocky  deserts  of  Palestine,  are  all  but  pale 
reminders  of  one  of  these  majestic  creatures.  And  yet,  outside 
the  patent  office,  there  are  no  monopolies  in  this  country,  and 
there  never  can  be.  Ah,  but  what  is  that  I  see  on  the  far 
horizon's  edge,  with  tongue  of  lambent  flame  and  eye  of  forked 
fire,  serpent-headed  and  griffin-clawed?  Surely  it  must  be 
the  great  new  chimera  "Trust."     Quick,  cries  every  masked 


204  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

member  of  the  Ways  and  Means.  Quick,  let  us  lower  the  tariff. 
Let  us  call  in  the  British.  Let  them  save  our  devastated  homes. 
Courage,  dear  brethren.  Be  not  too  much  disturbed.  The 
Lord  will  reign  even  if  the  board  of  mayor  and  aldermen  should 
adjourn. 

One  other  instance  of  the  deeper  note  which  his  wit 
and  humor  so  often  struck  will  suffice.  In  an  article 
about  the  tariff  he  spoke  of  the  attraction  which  free 
trade  offers  because  it  presents  a  number  of  conven- 
ient aphorisms,  and  people  Hke  to  feel  that  they 
have  truth  in  a  nutshell  and  can  take  it  out  and  look 
at  it  and  think  that  truth  is  simple.  "The  fact  is/^ 
he  continued,  "that  half-truths  are  simple,  but  the 
whole  truth  is  the  most  complicated  thing  on  earth." 
There  the  epigram  strikes  at  the  root  of  things  and 
conveys  a  real  philosophy. 

One  other  instance  occurs  to  me  which  shows  his 
power  of  illustration  as  well  as  the  capacity  for  epi- 
gram. We  had  been  hearing  a  great  deal  from  the 
free-trade  side  of  the  "survival  of  the  fittest"  and  the 
folly  of  attempting  to  set  aside  the  great  natural  law 
by  statute.  Mr.  Reed  referred  to  this  in  his  reply 
and  said  (I  quote  from  memory) : 

Gentlemen  are  fond  of  talking  about  "the  survival  of  the 
fittest,"  but  they  never  complete  the  sentence.  It  is  not  the 
abstractly  fittest  who  survive.  The  sentence  really  is,  "the 
survival  of  the  fittest  to  survive";  that  is,  the  fittest  for  a  given 
environment.     If  you  cast  a  minnow  and  the  magnificent  bull 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  205 

of  Bashan  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  there  is  no  question  which  is 
the  nobler  organism,  the  abstractly  fittest,  but  the  great  bull 
of  Bashan  will  perish  and  the  minnow  will  survive  in  that  en- 
vironment. 

The  fact  was  that  Mr.  Reed  had  a  mind  of  remark- 
able originality.  He  not  only  was  an  eminently  in- 
dependent thinker  and  a  very  strong  and  sound  one, 
but  he  thought  in  his  own  way  and  framed  his  con- 
clusions in  a  manner  peculiar  to  himself.  Every  fact, 
every  occurrence,  important  or  unimportant,  common 
or  uncommon,  was  returned  or  reflected  from  his 
mind  at  an  angle  quite  different  from  that  of  other 
people.  A  very  trifling  incident  will  illustrate  my 
meaning.  He  came  one  day  to  lunch  with  me  in  the 
Senate  restaurant.  We  sat  down  in  a  cramped  space 
at  a  very  small  table.  In  compressing  himself  into  the 
corner,  he  overturned  a  glass,  and  the  ice  which  it 
contained  fell  out  on  the  floor.  He  picked  up  the 
glass,  and,  looking  at  me  with  his  quizzical  expres- 
sion, said:  ^'I  don't  care.  It  isn't  my  ice."  There 
was  nothing  of  consequence  in  either  incident  or  re- 
mark, but  the  mental  process  and  the  angle  of  reflec- 
tion were  entirely  different  from  those  of  other  people. 

Another  little  story  that  comes  to  my  mind  illus- 
trates these  same  qualities.  A  member  of  the  House 
who  was  also  a  warm  friend  of  Mr.  Reed  was  sitting 
one  day  at  his  desk  with  his  legs  and  feet  extended  into 
the  aisle.    The  Speaker  came  up  the  narrow  path 


206  THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED 

and  my  friend  said,  moving  as  he  spoke,  "  Let  me  get 
out  of  your  way,  Mr.  Speaker."  Reed  looked  down 
and  said,  "One  will  do,"  and  passed  on. 

I  should  like  to  say  much  of  Mr.  Reed  as  a  great 
political  leader  and  constructive  statesman  outside  of 
Congress,  as  well  as  in  the  House.  I  should  like 
especially  to  say  something  of  him  when  he  was  a 
candidate  for  the  presidency.  I  supported  him  as 
strongly  as  I  could,  and  had  the  honor  of  presenting 
his  name  to  the  convention  at  St.  Louis.  I  was 
familiar  with  all  the  incidents  of  his  candidacy,  and  I 
know  how  he  declined  to  promise  offices  from  the 
cabinet  down  or  to  spend  money  to  secure  Southern 
delegates.  He  lost  the  nomination,  but  he  kept  his 
honor  pure  and  his  high  conception  of  public  duty  un- 
stained and  unimpaired.  Unfortunately,  the  limits  of 
space  compel  me  to  confine  myself  to  this  inadequate 
attempt  to  give  an  impression  of  him  simply  as  the 
parliamentary  chief,  the  leader  and  Speaker  of  the 
House,  where  his  greatest  fame  was  won.  Yet  I  can- 
not close  without  a  word  about  him  as  a  man.  He  was 
many-sided;  a  great  reader,  deeply  versed  in  English 
literature,  and  also  in  the  literature  of  France,  espe- 
cially old  France,  upon  which  he  used  to  work  at 
night  with  a  teacher  in  the  busiest  times  of  an  exciting 
session.  He  was  a  lover  of  art  and  natural  scenery 
and  knew  much  of  both.  He  liked  to  travel  both  at 
home   and   abroad,   wandering   about   in   cities   and 


THOMAS  BRACKETT  REED  207 

watching  the  people,  for  he  was  a  close  observer  and 
always  learning.  No  more  agreeable  companion  ever 
lived.  Like  Doctor  Johnson,  he  loved  to  sit  and  have 
his  talk  out,  and  no  one  was  ever  better  to  listen  to  or 
a  better  Hstener,  for  his  sympathies  were  wide,  his 
interests  unlimited,  and  nothing  human  was  alien  to 
him.  With  the  friends  he  cared  for,  and  he  was  him- 
self the  most  loyal  of  friends,  he  would  sit  or  walk  by 
the  hour,  talking  of  everything;  the  talk  was  always 
fresh,  keen,  and  suggestive,  and  the  great,  hearty,  con- 
tagious laugh  would  come  at  intervals  and  carry  every 
one  with  it. 

To  those  who  knew  him  best  and  loved  him  most 
it  is  sad  to  speak  of  him  as  a  figure  in  history,  sadder 
still  to  think  that  the  great  nature,  the  wit,  the  humor, 
the  sympathy,  the  deep  laughter,  the  honest  indigna- 
tion, are  now  only  memories. 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

Every  one  who  has  studied  history  is  familiar  with 
the  myths  which  crowd  its  pages.  I  do  not  mean  by 
this  the  frankly  mythical  tales  which  tell  of  gods  and 
goddesses,  of  the  divine  founders  of  nations,  tribes, 
and  families,  or  those  in  which  the  Middle  Ages  de- 
lighted and  which  were  replete  with  angels  and  devils, 
with  witches  and  sorcerers,  with  magic  and  miracles. 
The  myths  to  which  I  refer  are  those  which  masquerade 
as  history,  which  are  modern  as  well  as  ancient,  which 
make  no  pretence  to  the  supernatural,  but  which,  being 
either  pure  invention  or  a  huge  growth  from  some  little 
seed  of  fact,  possess  all  the  characteristics  of  their 
great  namesakes  which  have  rejoiced  the  world  for 
centuries,  awakened  almost  every  emotion  of  which 
the  human  heart  is  capable,  and  from  which  the  his- 
torian and  the  man  of  science  have  been  able  to  learn 
innumerable  lessons  as  to  the  thoughts  and  beliefs, 
the  hopes  and  fears,  of  primitive  man.  These  his- 
torical myths  grow  up  silently.  Some  of  them  reign 
unquestioned  for  centuries.  Modern  research  has  ex- 
posed many  of  ancient  lineage  and  long  acceptance, 
has  torn  away  the  mask  and  revealed  them  in  their 

true  character.     Yet  the  historical  myth  rarely  dies. 

208 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  209 

"'No  exposure  seems  able  to  kill  it.  Expelled  from  e very- 
book  of  authority,  from  every  dictionary  and  encyclo- 
psedia,  it  will  still  live  on  among  the  great  mass  of 
humanity.  The  reason  for  this  tenacity  of  life  is  not 
far  to  seek.  The  myth,  or  the  tradition,  as  it  is  some- 
times called,  has  necessarily  a  touch  of  imagination, 
and  imagination  is  almost  always  more  fascinating 
than  truth.  The  historical  myth,  indeed,  would  not 
exist  at  all  if  it  did  not  profess  to  tell  something  which 
people,  for  one  reason  or  another,  like  to  believe,  and 
which  appeals  strongly  to  some  emotion  or  passion, 
and  so  to  human  nature  itself.  Thus  the  historical 
myth  not  only  defies  its  enemies  who  are  interested  in 
the  truth  about  the  past,  but  it  springs  up  and  comes 
to  maturity  in  these  present  days  even  under  the  full 
and  relentless  glare  of  the  searchlight  of  science  or 
beneath  the  microscope  of  the  antiquary.  It  is  so 
hardy  that  it  withstands  the  examination  of  the 
scientific  historian  and  of  the  student  and  writer  of 
history. 

Sometimes  the  historical  myth  is  mischievous,  per- 
verting or  inventing  important  facts  on  which  history 
turns  and  by  which  judgments  are  made  up  and  con- 
clusions drawn.  In  such  cases  too  much  pains  cannot 
be  expended  in  its  destruction.  But  in  most  cases  the 
historical  myth  is  harmless  except  upon  the  general 
consideration  that  all  historical  falsehoods  are  bad, 
both  great  and  small,  and  that  truth  ought  to  pre- 


210  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

vail,  for,  mighty  as  truth  is,  the  assertion  of  the  motto 
that  it  will  prevail,  however  agreeable  in  theory,  is  open 
to  some  doubt  in  practice. 

To  illustrate  the  ordinary  variety  of  historical  myths 
we  need  not  go  farther  than  the  life  of  Washington. 
The  youthful  conversations  of  our  first  President  with 
his  father,  the  xmdiluted  invention  of  the  veracious 
Weems,  have  been  shattered  again  and  again,  but 
they  live  on  in  the  popular  mind,  and  nothing  can 
extirpate  them.  The  masterly  statesmanship  which 
by  the  Jay  Treaty  sacrificed  the  French  alHance  in 
order  that  the  British  posts  which  arrested  our  advance 
and  threatened  our  independence  might  be  removed 
is  little  known  and  less  appreciated.  But  every  child 
has  heard  of  the  flat  and  fatuous  moralities  which 
Weems  stole  from  Beattie  and  with  his  own  improve- 
ments foisted  upon  the  great  leader  of  the  Revolution. 
Washington  was  never  a  marshal  of  France,  and  there 
is  no  evidence  that  he  was  ever  given  a  sword  by 
Frederick  the  Great.  Yet  both  stories  have  been  widely 
believed;  both  crop  up  from  time  to  time,  are  roundly 
defended,  and  then  sink  down,  only  to  rise  again,  as 
smiling  and  as  false  as  they  were  in  the  beginning. 

The  little  myth  with  which  I  propose  to  deal  here  is 
even  more  unimportant  than  those  I  have  just  cited 
as  examples  of  the  tribe.  But  the  process  of  its  growth 
can  be  traced  with  singular  exactness  (which  is  seldom 
the  case),  and  the  processes  of  development  are  just 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  211 

as  characteristic  in  a  small  myth  as  in  a  large  and  im- 
portant one,  and  therefore  equally  instructive  and 
equally  serviceable  in  teaching  us  how  to  recognize 
the  falsehood  in  history,  how  to  weigh  historical 
evidence,  and  how  to  reach  the  truth,  as  nearly  at 
least  as  is  possible  to  mere  finite  understandings.  The 
historical  myth  whose  growth  and  fortunes  I  am  about 
to  trace  has  one  distinct  advantage.  It  is  not  only 
connected  with  a  great  man  and  his  notorious  op- 
ponent, but  it  is  also  involved  with  an  unsolved  murder 
case,  and,  as  Marjorie  Fleming  wisely  said,  "the  his- 
tory of  all  the  criminals  as  ever  was  hanged  is  amusing.^' 
The  case  also  gives  some  glimpses  of  society  a  hundred 
years  ago  which  afford  queer  contrasts  with  the  man- 
ners and  habits  of  the  present  time.  Moreover,  I  have 
a  personal  interest  in  the  tale,  for,  confession  being 
good  for  the  soul,  I  must  admit  that  I  am  in  this  case 
one  of  that  numerous  class  who  accept  a  myth  without 
sufficient  investigation,  add  to  it  the  weight  of  their 
acceptance,  be  it  much  or  little,  and  then  pass  it  on, 
as  I  did  in  this  instance. 

On  December  22,  1799,  a  young  woman  named 
Gulielma  Elmore  Sands,  familiarly  known  as  Elma 
Sands,  left  her  home  in  Greenwich  Street  near  Frank- 
lin Street  in  the  city  of  New  York,  and  did  not  return. 
Two  days  later,  on  the  24th  of  December,^  a  muff 

*  See  testimony  of  Andrew  Blanck  in  Coleman's  Report,  p.  53,  also 
p.  29. 


212  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

which  she  carried  was  found  by  a  boy  in  or  near  the 
Manhattan  Well,  which  was  situated  in  Lispenard^s 
Meadow,  at  a  point  now  reached  by  an  alley  running 
from  Greene  Street  and  not  far  from  Spring  Street. 
Curiously  enough,  this  clue  was  not  followed  with  any 
energy  until  a  week  later,  when  the  body  was  recovered, 
on  January  2,  1800.  There  were  marks  indicating 
that  the  unfortunate  girl  might  have  received  rough 
treatment,  but  the  tears  in  the  dress  and  the  bruises 
and  abrasions  were  not  of  a  conclusive  character.  The 
body  was  taken  from  the  well  to  the  house  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Ring,  distant  relatives  with  whom  Elma  Sands 
had  lived,  and  was  there  laid  out  for  some  three  days, 
and  on  one  day  was  exposed  to  public  view  in  the 
street,  when  crowds  came  for  the  purpose  of  looking 
at  it.i 

To  exhibit  the  body  of  a  murdered  person  in  the 
street  seems  strange  to  us,  especially  as  there  was  no 
question  of  identification,  and  is  an  instance  of  the 
contrasts  between  the  manners  of  a  century  ago  and 
the  present  day.  Whether  this  was  a  common  occur- 
rence it  is  not  possible  to  say  with  complete  assurance, 
but  it  is  certain  tha,t  neither  the  witnesses  nor  anybody 
else  spoke  of  it  as  strange  or  shockmg.  Doctor  Hosack, 
a  leading  physician  of  New  York,  seems  to  have  gone 
to  look  at  the  body  out  of  mere  curiosity  and  quite  as 

» See  testimony  of  Doctor  Hosack,  and  also  that  of  Joseph  Watkins, 
p.  74,  Coleman's  Report. 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  213 

a  matter  of  course.    Such  an  exposure  now  in  a  public 
street  is  unimaginable. 

In  this  particular  case  the  custom  may  have  been 
seized  upon  with  especial  avidity,  for  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  girl  had  produced  a  great  deal  of  excite- 
ment, which  rose  to  fever  heat  after  the  finding  of  the 
body.    Here,  again,  we  come  upon  some  odd  differ- 
ences between  that  time  and  this.     The  newspapers 
granted  little  space  and  no  headlines  to  the  crime,  an 
ample  proof  of  their  utter  inferiority  to  those  with 
which  we  are  blessed  to-day,  which  give  colunms  and 
pictures  and  staring  capitals  even  to  the  vulgarest  and 
most  uninteresting  of  criminals  and  crimes.     In  an- 
other way  the  conduct  of  the  newspapers  in  New  York 
in  the  year  1800  was  even  more  pitiful.    Not  only  did 
they  refrain  from  efforts  to  influence  and  mislead  the 
people,   but   they   actually   deprecated   attempts   to 
prejudice  the  case,  and  intimated  in  a  poor-spirited 
way  that  an  accused  man  of  good  character  was  en- 
titled to  a  fair  trial.    For  by  this  time  there  was  an 
accused.    On  January  6  the  Grand  Jury  brought  in 
a  verdict  of  "Murder  by  a  person  or  persons  un- 
known,'* and  foiu"  days  later  indicted  Levi  Weeks,  a 
young  builder  and  carpenter  of  excellent  character 
and  standing,  as  the  murderer.    Weeks  was  the  popular 
selection,  and  suspicion  had  turned  toward  him  with 
some  reason.   He  had  been  the  girl's  lover,  very  intimate 
with  her,  as  appeared  by  the  testimony,  where  it  was 


214  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

also  in  evidence  that  he  was  not  the  only  fortunate 
person  in  this  respect.  The  public  promptly  deter- 
mined that  he  was  guilty,  although  the  newspapers,  with 
singular  indifference  to  their  duty,  did  nothing  in  this 
direction,  and  therefore  other  means  were  employed  to 
influence  public  feehng  against  the  prisoner.  Hand- 
bills were  circulated  attacking  the  accused  and  casting 
suspicion  upon  him,  and,  what  was  still  more  singular, 
these  handbills  told  of  the  appearance  of  ghosts  and 
goblins  and  dancing  devils  at  the  well  and  in  the  prison. 
This  appeal  to  the  supernatural  is  another  glimpse  of 
the  queer  differences  between  that  time  and  this,  one 
of  those  sharp  contrasts  in  feelings  and  beliefs  among 
the  people  which  history  rarely  records  and  which  are 
revealed  only  by  a  study  of  some  contemporary  docu- 
ment full  of  petty  details  like  this  once  notorious  but 
now  forgotten  trial  for  mm'der.^ 

Yet,  however  strange  goblins  and  ghosts  may  appear 
to  us  as  a  means  of  directing  popular  anger  against 
a  man  accused  of  murder,  they  had,  so  far  as  we  can 
judge,  an  immense  effect  in  the  city  of  New  York  in 
the  year  1800.  So  far  as  the  people  were  concerned, 
Levi  Weeks  was  tried  and  found  guilty.  Fortunately 
for  him,  there  was  no  referendum  for  a  case  like  this, 
although  that  improvement  in  the  criminal  law  may 
yet  be  bestowed  upon  us.    If  there  had  been,  his  shrift 

*  For  handbills  see  testimony  in  the  case.  The  best  account  of  them 
is  in  the  Introduction  to  Hardie's  report  of  the  trial,  p.  v. 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  215 

would  have  been  short,  because  in  that  simpler  time 
there  was  no  opposition  to  capital  punishment  and  no 
sentimentality  about  criminals.  Indeed,  with  an  odd 
perversity  which  may  well  seem  remarkable  to  us, 
popular  sympathy  then  went  out  to  the  murdered  and 
not  to  the  murderers. 

Thus  it  came  about,  despite  the  public  clamor  and 
excitement,  that  Levi  Weeks,  in  due  course,  was 
brought  to  trial  on  March  31,  1800.  The  court,  which 
sat  in  the  building  at  the  corner  of  Wall  and  Nassau 
Streets,  where  the  Sub-Treasury  now  stands,  was 
composed  of  Chief  Justice  Lansing,  Richard  Varick, 
the  mayor,  and  Richard  Harrison,  the  recorder.  The 
prosecuting  officer  was  Cadwallader  Golden,  assistant 
attorney-general.  The  counsel  for  the  defence  (and 
their  names  explain  the  appearance  of  this  trial  in  his- 
tory) were  Alexander  Hamilton,  Brockholst  Living- 
ston, and  Aaron  Burr.  They  were  all  leading  lawyers 
at  the  bar;  one  of  them  had  been  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  was  a  general  in  the  army,  and  the  leader 
of  the  Federalist  party;  another  was  a  leader  in  the 
Democratic  or  (as  it  was  then  called)  Republican  party, 
and  was  on  the  eve  of  becoming  vice-president  of  the 
United  States. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  follow  the  trial  in  detail, 
for  the  crime  was  a  striking  one,  and  the  examination 
of  the  witnesses,  as  always,  presents  many  pictures  of 
life,  and  is  full  of  the  attraction  which  abides  in  the 


216  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

revelations  of  the  motives^  passions,  and  weaknesses 
incident  to  human  nature.  But  an  analysis  of  the 
trial  is  not  my  purpose,  and  space  forbids  that  I  should 
do  more  than  sum  up  the  result.  The  trial  lasted  two 
days  and  practically  two  nights.  The  newspapers  com- 
ment on  its  length,  and  Hardie  in  his  preface  speaks  of 
it  as  the  most  lengthy  trial  ever  known.  When  one 
thinks  of  the  interminable  crimmal  trials  which  now 
disgrace  our  courts  with  their  vast  expenditure  of 
money  and  frequently  with  a  defeat  of  the  ends  of 
justice,  one  cannot  but  feel  that  we  have,  in  one  re- 
spect, at  least,  sadly  degenerated  from  the  standards 
of  our  ancestors  one  hundred  years  ago. 

At  the  close  of  this  ''most  lengthy''  trial  Levi 
Weeks  was  acquitted,  the  chief  justice  charging  in  his 
favor  and  the  jury  remaining  out  only  four  minutes. 
To  any  one  who  reads  the  report  it  is  obvious  that  no 
other  verdict  was  possible.  The  prosecution  failed 
to  show  that  Weeks  had  gone  out  with  Elma  Sands 
on  the  22d  of  December,  and  the  defence  proved  an 
aUbi  for  Weeks  on  that  evening  so  complete  as  to  put 
any  participation  in  the  murder  on  his  part  practically 
beyond  the  bounds  of  possibility. 

This  brings  us  to  the  story  connected  with  the  trial 
which  has  carried  it  into  history  and  which  has  as- 
sumed the  dimensions  of  a  well-established  myth.  In 
1858  Mr.  James  Parton  pubHshed  his  life  of  Aaron 
Burr,  and  on  page  148  he  gave  the  following  account 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  217 

of  an  incident  which  occurred;  as  he  states,  in  the  course 
of  the  Weeks  trial  : 

He  [Colonel  Burr]  used  to  say  that  he  had  once  saved  a  man 
from  being  hanged  by  a  certain  arrangement  of  the  candles 
in  a  courtroom.  He  referred  to  a  trial  for  murder  in  which 
both  Hamilton  and  himself  defended  the  prisoner,  and  which 
excited  intense  interest  at  the  time.  At  first  the  evidence 
against  the  prisoner  seemed  conclusive,  and  I  think  Burr  him- 
self thought  him  guilty.  But  as  the  trial  proceeded,  suspicions 
arose  against  the  principal  witness.  Colonel  Burr  subjected 
him  to  a  relentless  cross-examination,  and  he  became  convinced 
that  the  guilt  lay  between  the  witness  and  the  prisoner,  with 
the  balance  of  probability  against  the  witness. 

The  man's  appearance  and  bearing  were  most  unprepossess- 
ing. Besides  being  remarkably  ugly,  he  had  the  mean,  down 
look  which  is  associated  with  the  timidity  of  guilt.  Hamilton 
had  addressed  the  jury  with  his  usual  fluent  eloquence,  confin- 
ing his  remarks  to  the  vindication  of  the  prisoner,  without  al- 
luding to  the  probable  guilt  of  the  witness.  The  prosecuting 
attorney  replied,  and  it  was  now  Burr's  province  to  say  the 
last  word  for  the  prisoner.  But  the  day  had  worn  away,  the 
court  took  a  recess  till  candle-light.  This  was  extremely  an- 
noying to  Colonel  Burr,  as  he  meditated  enacting  a  little  scene, 
to  the  success  of  which  a  strong  light  was  indispensable.  He 
was  not  to  be  balked,  however.  Through  one  of  his  satellites, 
of  whom  he  always  had  several  revolving  around  him,  he  caused 
an  extra  number  of  candles  to  be  brought  into  the  courtroom, 
and  to  be  so  arranged  as  to  throw  a  strong  light  upon  a  certain 
pillar,  in  full  view  of  the  jury,  against  which  the  suspected  wit- 
ness had  leaned  throughout  the  trial.  The  court  assembled, 
the  man  resumed  his  accustomed  place,  and  Colonel  Burr 
rose,  With  the  clear  conciseness  of  which  he  was  master,  he 
set  forth  the  facts  which  bore  against  the  man,  and  then,  seiz- 


218  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

ing  two  candelabra  from  the  table,  he  held  them  up  toward 
him,  throwing  a  glare  of  light  upon  his  face,  and  exclaimed: 

"Behold  the  murderer,  gentlemen!" 

Every  eye  was  turned  on  the  wretch's  ghastly  countenance, 
which,  to  the  excited  multitude,  seemed  to  wear  the  very  ex- 
pression of  a  convicted  murderer.  The  man  reeled,  as  though 
he  had  been  struck;  then  shrunk  away  behind  the  crowd,  and 
rushed  from  the  room.  The  effect  of  this  incident  was  deci- 
sive. Colonel  Burr  concluded  his  speech,  the  judge  charged, 
the  jury  gave  a  verdict  of  acquittal,  and  the  prisoner  was  free. 

It  will  be  observed  that  Mr.  Parton  gives  no  author- 
ity whatever  for  any  of  the  statements  in  the  passage 
just  quoted.  When  I  wrote  my  biography  of  Hamil- 
ton, more  than  twenty-five  years  ago,  I  rejected  the 
Parton  account  of  the  supposed  incident  because  on 
the  very  face  of  his  statement  the  whole  tale  appeared 
so  utterly  improbable.  For  example,  he  says  that  he 
arranged  the  candles  so  as  to  throw  a  strong  light  upon 
a  certain  pillar  where  the  witness  was  standing.  The 
witness,  Croucher,  being  no  longer  on  the  stand,  had 
nothing  to  do  but  to  step  to  one  side  and  get  out  of 
the  Hght.  Again,  Burr  was  a  good  lawyer,  and  he 
never  would  have  made  such  a  speech  as  Parton  de- 
scribed, and  would  have  been  stopped  by  the  court  if 
he  had  tried  to  do  so.  These  are  but  two  of  the 
points  which  a  casual  reading  discloses,  but  when  we 
put  Mr.  Parton's  account  beside  the  shorthand  report 
of  the  trial  the  result  is  really  startling.  He  says  that 
Croucher  was  the  principal  witness;  he  was  not.    Mrs. 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  219 

Ring  was  the  principal  witness,  and  there  were  others 
much  more  important  than  Croucher.    He  says  that 
Colonel  Burr  subjected  Croucher  to  a  relentless  cross- 
examination.     The  cross-examination  of  Croucher  as 
reported  in  shorthand  was  neither  long  nor  very  serious, 
and  there  is  no  evidence  that  Burr  conducted  it.     He 
says,   "Hamilton   had   addressed   the  jury  with   his 
usual  fluent  eloquence."     Hamilton  never  addressed 
the  jury  at  all.    He  says,  ''It  was  now  Burr's  province 
to  say  the  last  word  for  the  prisoner."    This  state- 
ment that  Burr  spoke  in  closing  after  the  prosecuting 
officer  was  one  of  the  assertions  that  made  Mr.  Par- 
ton's  account  unbelievable  even  without  examination, 
but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  were  no  closing  speeches. 
Burr,  as  the  junior  counsel,  opened  the  case  for  the 
defence.     It  was  a  very  good  speech,  in  which  he  made 
some  legal  points  and  insinuated  in  a  very  guarded 
manner  that  the  real  culprit  must  be  found  among 
the  witnesses,  but  there  is  not  a  word  in  that  speech 
in  the  least  resembling  those  which  Parton  attributes 
to  Burr.    After  the  evidence  was  all  in,  Burr  read  to 
the  jury  an  extract  from  Hale's  Pleas  of  the  Crown, 
and  that  was  all  he  did.     The  fact  is  that  Parton's 
account  was  pure  invention,  and  there  is  no  indication 
that  he  ever  read  a  report  of  the  trial,  for  if  he  had, 
then  what  he  said  would  have  been,  of  course,  a  simple 
falsification  of  the  record. 

Three  years  later,  in  1861,  Mr.  John  C.  Hamilton 


220  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

published  his  life  of  his  father,  which  he  called  a  His- 
tory of  the  Republic  of  the  United  States.  On  pages 
745  to  747,  in  Volume  VII,  he  gave  his  account  of  the 
alleged  incident  in  the  Weeks  trial.    It  is  as  follows : 

An  occurrence  had  taken  place  which  greatly  excited  the 
sympathies  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  New  York.  The 
body  of  a  female  was  found  in  a  public  well,  and  a  young  me- 
chanic of  reputable  character,  who  had  been  her  suitor,  was 
suspected  of  and  indicted  for  the  murder.  Hamilton  was  en- 
gaged to  defend  him.  A  careful  investigation  left  no  doubt 
in  his  mind  of  the  innocence  of  the  accused,  and  his  suspicions 
fell  upon  a  principal  witness  for  the  prosecution.  But  the 
public  feeling  had  been  artfully  directed  against  his  client,  and 
to  overcome  its  passionate  prejudices  was  a  herculean  task. 
The  oflBce  of  defending  him  was  rendered  invidious,  and,  fear- 
ing that  his  talents  would  rescue  the  destined  victim  from 
their  grasp,  Hamilton,  when  he  appeared  in  the  court  of  jus- 
tice, was  regarded  by  the  multitude,  in  this,  the  only  time  of 
his  life,  with  a  dark  and  sullen  animosity.  He  resolved  not 
merely  to  secure  the  acquittal  of  his  client  but  to  place  his 
character  beyond  all  just  suspicion. 

It  would,  in  this  view,  be  a  great  victory  so  to  operate  on  the 
jury  in  the  progress  of  the  evidence  as  to  supersede  the  neces- 
sity of  summing  up  the  case.  To  this  object  he  bent  all  his 
efforts.  The  evidence  was  circumstantial  with  the  exception 
of  that  of  the  witness  w^ho,  Hamilton  felt  convinced,  was  the 
criminal.  After  an  exertion  of  all  his  logical  powers  in  dis- 
entangling the  web  which  had  been  wound  around  the  accused, 
and  in  showing  that  the  crime  must  have  been  perpetrated  by 
another  hand,  the  suspected  witness  was  called  to  the  stand. 
On  his  evidence  the  verdict  would  turn.  The  prolonged  trial 
had  extended  far  into  the  night;  and  when  Croucher  was 
sworn  Hamilton  advanced,  placed  a  candle  on  each  side  of  his 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  221 

face,  and  fixed  on  him  a  piercing  eye.  This  was  objected  to; 
but  the  court  declared  the  extraordinary  case  warranted  this 
procedure.  Hamilton  then  remarked,  in  the  deepest  tones  of 
his  voice:  "I  have  special  reasons,  deep  reasons,  reasons  that  I 
dare  not  express  —  reasons  that,  when  the  real  culprit  is  de- 
tected and  placed  before  the  court,  will  then  be  understood." 
The  audience  bent  forward  in  a  breathless  anxiety,  every  eye 
turning  from  the  prisoner  to  the  witness,  when  Hamilton  ex- 
claimed: "The  jury  will  mark  every  muscle  of  his  face,  every 
motion  of  his  eye.  I  conjure  you  to  look  through  that  man's 
countenance  to  his  conscience."  Having  thus  fixed  the  im- 
pression, he  pressed  in  a  close  examination  the  conscience- 
stricken  culprit,  who  plunged  on  from  one  admission  to  another, 
from  contradiction  to  contradiction.  The  evidence  closed. 
As  Croucher  withdrew  from  the  stand  the  spectators  turned 
away  from  him  with  horror;  and  the  jury  acquitted  the  young 
mechanic  without  rising  from  their  seats.  Doubts  still  hung 
over  the  accused,  but  the  subsequent  conviction  of  this  witness 
of  an  execrable  crime  left  little  question  of  the  justice  of  Hamil- 
ton's suspicions. 

I  accepted  the  Hamilton  story  in  my  biography,  as 
did  Mr.  John  T.  Morse  in  his  hf e  of  Hamilton,  pubhshed 
some  years  before  mine.  The  Hamilton  version  on  its 
face,  unlike  the  Parton  version,  had  nothing  obviously 
absurd  or  contradictory.  Hamilton  is  there  repre- 
sented as  placing  the  candles  on  each  side  of  the  wit- 
ness while  he  was  on  the  stand  and  could  not  move, 
and  the  absurdity  of  winding  up  the  case  with  a  gov- 
ernment witness  on  the  stand  could  be  set  down  to 
the  fervor  of  the  narration  and  to  the  writer's  habitual 
inaccuracy.    But  when  we  put  the  Hamilton  account 


222  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

beside  the  shorthand  report,  it  does  not  fare  very  much 
better  than  the  inventions  of  Mr.  Parton.  In  the  first 
place,  Mr.  John  C.  Hamilton  omits  entirely  to  say  that 
Hamilton  had  with  him  as  associate  counsel  Living- 
ston and  Burr.  In  the  second  place,  there  is  no  evi- 
dence that  Hamilton  conducted  the  cross-examination 
of  Croucher.  One  of  the  three  counsel  for  the  prisoner 
cross-examined  him,  but  the  report  of  the  trial  does  not 
tell  us  which  one  it  was.  As  I  have  already  said,  the 
cross-examination  as  reported  was  sufficient  but  not 
serious,  and  there  is  not  a  trace  of  anybody's  putting 
candles  near  him  at  that  time,  nor  is  there  a  word  re- 
sembling those  which  Mr.  John  C.  Hamilton  attributes 
to  his  father.  As  the  shorthand  report  carefully  men- 
tions the  occasion  when  the  candles  were  used,  it  is 
fair  to  suppose  that  no  such  incident  as  that  described 
by  John  C.  Hamilton  occurred  when  Croucher  was 
cross-examined.  The  account  of  the  cross-examination 
is  imaginary,  and  so,  of  course,  is  the  part  about 
Croucher  withdrawing  from  the  stand  and  the  spec- 
tators turning  away  from  him  with  horror. 

In  1872  Mr.  WilHam  Stone,  in  his  History  of  New 
York  City,  adopted  the  Parton  story,  with  certain 
modifications  to  make  it  less  impossible  of  belief,  but 
gave  no  authorities  for  his  version  of  the  incident.  In 
the  same  year  Mr.  Edward  S.  Gould  published  an 
article  in  the  May  number  of  Harper's  Magazine  en- 
titled  The   Manhattan   Well    Murder.     The   article 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  223 

was  devoted  to  the  murder  and  to  the  trial,  which  Mr. 
Gould  considered  a  miscarriage  of  justice,  and  he  re- 
fers only  in  passing  to  the  incident  of  the  candles. 
Mr.  Gould  says  that  he  had  before  him  a  manuscript 
report  of  the  trial  in  Hamilton's  handwriting,  and  on 
this  he  based  his  own  account.     That  Hamilton  should 
have  made  a  shorthand  report  of  the  trial  covering 
fifty-four  pages  seems,  on  the  face  of  it,  improbable. 
The  extract  which  Mr.  Gould  gave  in  facsimile  is 
obviously  not  in  Hamilton's  handwriting,  as  a  most 
superficial  comparison  shows.     Moreover,  the  extract 
in  the  facsimile  is  a  verbatim  reproduction  of  Coleman's 
shorthand  report.    All  Mr.  Gould's  other  extracts  are 
either  condensed  versions  or  exact  reproductions  of 
the  Coleman  report.    What  he  had  in  his  possession 
was  undoubtedly  a  draught  of  the  Coleman  report  taken 
from  the  original  shorthand  reports,  but,  although  it 
was  not  by  Hamilton,  Mr.  Gould's  material  was  au- 
thentic and  accurate.    The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
account  in  Doctor  Hamilton's  book  about  his  grand- 
father, published  in  1910.    He  had  before  him  the  Cole- 
man report,  and  therefore  knew  what  really  happened. 
There  were  three  reports  of  the  Weeks  trial.     One 
was  a  longhand  report  prepared  by  a  man  named  Long- 
worth,  and  put  out  the  very  day  after  the  verdict  to 
meet  the  popular  demand  and  snatch  the  benefit  of 
the  first  excitement.     Coleman  speaks  of  it  as  an  en- 
tirely worthless  report,  which  is  probably  true,  although 


224  AN  AMERICAN  MYTH 

I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  copy  of  it.  The  second 
report  was  by  James  Hardie.  This  was  also  a  long- 
hand report,  and  seems  to  have  been  carefully  pre- 
pared and  to  be  as  accurate  as  such  a  report  could  be. 
The  third  was  the  shorthand  report  by  William  Cole- 
man,  which  is  both  full  and  accurate.  On  page  82 
there  is  given  the  evidence  of  William  Dustan,  which 
is  as  follows: 

Last  Friday  morning  a  man,  I  don't  know  his  name,  came 
into  my  store.  {Here  one  of  the  prisoner's  counsel  held  a  candle 
close  to  Croucher's  face,  who  stood  among  the  crowd,  and  asked 
the  witness  if  it  was  he.  And  he  said  it  was.)  He  said,  "  Good 
morning,  gentlemen,  Levi  Weeks  is  taken  up  by  the  high 
sheriff,  and  there  is  fresh  evidence  against  him  from  Hacken- 
sack."  He  then  went  away,  and  as  he  went  out  he  said,  "My 
name  is  Croucher";  and  this  was  all  the  business  he  had  with 
me. 

There  we  have  the  entire  foundation  for  the  dra- 
matic scene  conjured  up  by  Parton  and  John  C.  Hamil- 
ton. The  report  does  not  show  which  of  the  prisoner's 
counsel  held  a  candle  to  Croucher's  face,  but  Mrs. 
Hamilton,  according  to  Mr.  Gould,  always  said  that 
it  was  her  husband  who  did  it,  and,  in  the  absence  of 
any  other  evidence,  this  may  be  accepted  as  the  truth. 
It  was  a  very  natural  thing  to  do.  There  was  nothing 
remarkable  about  it.  It  might  well  have  occurred  to 
anybody  in  that  ill-lighted  courtroom  when  a  question 
of  identification  was  raised.    A  little  later  in  the  trial 


AN  AMERICAN  MYTH  225 

a  witness  named  Matthew  Mustee  was  on  the  stand, 
and  he  was  asked  by  counsel  for  the  prisoner:  ^'Do  you 
know  Levi  Weeks  ?  Should  you  know  the  person  you 
speak  of  if  you  saw  him  ?  A.  I  don't  know  as  I  should. 
Q.  (by  the  assistant  attorney-general).  Take  the  candle 
and  look  round  and  see  if  you  can  pick  him  out.  (He 
went  nearer  the  prisoner,  and  pointing  to  him  said): 
That  was  he.''  ^ 

That  is  the  whole  story  of  what  actually  happened. 
It  was  a  perfectly  commonplace  incident,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  see  how  it  has  been  developed  by  two 
biographers,  relying  on  hearsay  and  wandering  tra- 
ditions, into  a  picturesque  and  dramatic  scene.  It  is 
a  quite  perfect  example  of  historical  myth-making  — 
one  little  natural  incident  developing  two  full-grown 
myths  —  but  it  is  to  be  feared  that  the  stories  of 
Parton  and  John  C.  Hamilton  will  continue  to  be  re- 
peated, for  the  unvarnished  facts  make  no  appeal  to 
the  imagination.  The  trial  itself  was  dramatic  enough 
and  full  of  human  interest,  but  that  will  all  be  passed 
over  and  forgotten  in  favor  of  a  wholly  unsupported 
legend  which  it  is  pleasant  to  have  attached  to  the 
memory  of  an  eminent  man. 

^  Coleman'fl  Report,  p.  90. 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  1 

Ever  since  civilized  man  has  had  a  Hterature  he 
has  apparently  sought  to  make  selections  from  it 
and  thus  put  his  favorite  passages  together  under  one 
roof  in  a  compact  and  convenient  form.  Certain  it 
is,  at  least,  that  to  the  Greeks,  masters  in  all  great 
arts,  we  owe  this  habit.  They  made  such  collections 
and  named  them,  after  their  pleasant  imaginative 
fashion,  a  gathering  of  flowers,  or  what  we,  borrowing 
their  word,  call  an  anthology.  So  to  those  austere 
souls  who  regard  anthologies  as  a  labor-saving  con- 
trivance for  the  benefit  of  persons  who  like  a  smatter- 
ing of  knowledge  and  are  never  really  learned,  we  can 
at  least  plead  in  mitigation  that  we  have  high  and 
ancient  authority  for  the  practice.  In  any  event  no 
amoimt  of  scholarly  deprecation  has  been  able  to  turn 
mankind  or  that  portion  of  mankind  which  reads 
books  from  the  agreeable  habit  of  making  volumes 
of  selections  and  finding  in  them  much  pleasure,  as 
well  as  improvement  in  taste  and  knowledge.  With 
the  spread  of  education  and  with  the  enormous  in- 

*  This  essay  was  written  as  an  introduction  to  The  Best  of  the  World's 
Classics,  ten  volumes  of  prose  selections  published  by  Funk  & 
Wagnalls. 

226 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  227 

crease  of  literature  among  all  civilized  nations,  more 
especially  since  the  invention  of  printing  and  its  vast 
multiplication  of  books,  the  making  of  volumes  of 
selections  comprising  what  is  best  in  one's  own  or  in 
many  literatures  is  no  longer  a  mere  matter  of  taste 
or  convenience  as  with  the  Greeks,  but  has  become 
something  little  short  of  a  necessity  in  this  world  of 
many  workers,  comparatively  few  scholars,  and  still 
fewer  intelligent  men  of  leisure.  Anthologies  have 
been  multiplied  like  all  other  books,  and  in  the  main 
they  have  done  much  good  and  little  harm.  The  man 
who  thinks  he  is  a  scholar  or  highly  educated  because 
he  is  familiar  with  what  is  collected  in  a  well-chosen 
anthology,  of  course  errs  grievously.  Such  familiar- 
ity no  more  makes  one  a  master  of  literature  than  a 
perusal  of  a  dictionary  makes  the  reader  a  master  of 
style.  But  as  the  latter  pursuit  can  hardly  fail  to 
enlarge  a  man's  vocabulary,  so  the  former  adds  to  his 
knowledge,  increases  his  stock  of  ideas,  liberalizes  his 
mind,  and  opens  to  him  new  sources  of  enjoyment. 

The  habit  of  the  Greeks  was  to  bring  together  selec- 
tions of  verse,  passages  of  especial  merit,  epigrams  and 
short  poems.  In  the  main  their  example  has  been  fol- 
lowed. From  their  days  down  to  the  Elegant  Extracts 
in  Verse  of  our  grandmothers  and  grandfathers,  and 
thence  on  to  our  own  time  with  its  admirable  Golden 
Treasury  and  Oxford  Handbook  of  Verse,  there  has  been 
no  end  to  the  making  of  poetical  anthologies  and  ap- 


228  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

parently  no  diminution  in  the  public  appetite  for  them. 
Poetry  indeed  lends  itself  to  selection.  Much  of  the 
best  poetry  of  the  world  is  contained  in  short  poems, 
complete  in  themselves,  and  capable  of  transference 
bodily  to  a  volume  of  selections.  There  are  very  few 
poets  of  whose  quality  and  genius  a  fair  idea  cannot 
be  given  by  a  few  judicious  selections.  A  large  body 
of  noble  and  beautiful  poetry,  of  verse  which  is  "a 
joy  forever,'^  can  also  be  given  in  a  very  small  compass. 
And  the  mechanical  attribute  of  size,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, is  very  important  in  making  a  successful 
anthology,  for  an  essential  quality  of  a  volume  of  se- 
lections is  that  it  should  be  easily  portable,  that  it 
should  be  a  book  which  can  be  slipped  into  the  pocket 
and  readily  carried  about  in  any  wanderings  whether 
near  or  remote.  An  anthology  which  is  stored  in  one 
or  more  huge  and  heavy  volumes  is  practically  valueless 
except  to  those  who  have  neither  books  nor  access  to 
a  public  library,  or  who  think  that  a  stately  tome 
printed  on  calendered  paper  and  "profusely  illustrated'' 
is  an  ornament  to  a  centre-table  in  a  parlor  rarely  used 
except  on  funereal  or  other  official  occasions. 

I  have  mentioned  these  advantages  of  verse  for 
the  purposes  of  an  anthology  in  order  to  show  the 
difficulties  which  must  be  encountered  in  making  a 
prose  selection.  Very  little  prose  is  to  be  found  in 
small  parcels  which  can  be  transferred  entire,  and 
therefore  with  the  very  important  attribute  of  com- 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  229 

pleteness,  to  a  volume  of  selections.  From  most  of 
the  great  prose  writers  it  is  necessary  to  take  extracts, 
and  the  chosen  passage  is  broken  off  from  what  comes 
before  and  after.  The  fame  of  a  prose  writer,  as  a 
rule,  rests  on  a  book,  and  really  to  know  him  the 
book  must  be  read  and  not  merely  selected  passages. 
Extracts  give  no  very  satisfactory  idea  of  Paradise 
Lost  or  The  Divine  Comedy,  and  the  same  is  true  of 
extracts  from  a  history  or  a  novel.  It  is  possible  by 
spreading  prose  selections  through  a  series  of  small 
volumes  to  conquer  the  mechanical  difficulty  and 
thus  make  the  selections  in  form  what  they  ought 
above  all  things  to  be  —  companions  and  not  books  of 
reference  or  table  decorations.  But  the  spiritual  or 
literary  problem  is  not  so  easily  overcome.  What 
prose  to  take  and  where  to  take  it  are  by  no  means 
easy  questions  to  solve.  Yet  they  are  well  worth  solv- 
ing, so  far  as  patient  effort  can  do  it,  for  in  this  period 
of  easy  printing  it  is  desirable  to  put  in  convenient 
form  before  those  who  read  examples  of  the  masters 
which  will  draw  us  back  from  the  perishing  chatter 
of  the  moment  to  the  literature  which  is  the  highest 
work  of  civilization  and  which  is  at  once  noble  and 
lasting. 

Upon  that  theory  this  collection  has  been  formed. 
It  is  an  attempt  to  give  examples  from  all  periods 
and  languages  of  Western  civilization  of  what  is  best 
and  most  memorable  in  their  prose  literature.    That 


230  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

the  result  is  not  a  complete  exhibition  of  the  time  and 
the  literatures  covered  by  the  selections  no  one  is 
better  aware  than  the  editors.  Inexorable  conditions 
of  space  make  a  certain  degree  of  incompleteness  in- 
evitable when  he  who  is  gathering  flowers  traverses 
so  vast  a  garden,  and  is  obliged  to  store  the  results 
of  his  labors  within  such  narrow  bounds.  The  editors 
are  also  fully  conscious  that,  like  all  other  similar  col- 
lections, this  one,  too,  will  give  rise  to  the  familiar 
criticism  and  questionings  as  to  why  such  a  passage 
was  omitted  and  such  another  inserted;  why  this 
writer  was  chosen  and  that  other  passed  by.  In 
literature  we  all  have  our  favorites,  and  even  the  most 
catholic  of  us  has  also  his  dislikes  if  not  his  pet  aver- 
sions. I  will  frankly  confess  that  there  are  authors 
represented  in  these  volumes  whose  writings  I  should 
avoid.  Just  as  there  are  certain  towns  and  cities  of  the 
world  to  which,  having  once  visited  them,  I  should 
never  wiUingly  return,  for  the  simple  reason  that  I 
would  not  voluntarily  subject  myself  to  seeing  or 
reading  what  I  dislike,  or,  which  is  worse,  what  bores 
and  fatigues  me.  But  no  editor  of  an  anthology  must 
seek  to  impose  upon  others  his  own  tastes  and  opinions. 
He  must  at  the  outset  remember  and  never  afterward 
forget  that  so  far  as  possible  his  work  must  be  free 
from  the  personal  equation.  He  must  recognize  that 
some  authors  who  may  be  mute  or  dull  to  him  have  a 
place  in  literature,  past  or  present,  sufficiently  assured 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  231 

to  entitle  them  to  a  place  among  selections  which  are 
intended  above  all  things  else  to  be  representative. 

To  those  who  wonder  why  some  favorite  of  their 
own  was  omitted  while  something  else  for  which  they 
do  not  care  at  all  has  found  a  place,  I  can  only  say 
that  the  editors,  having  suppressed  their  own  personal 
preferences,  have  proceeded  on  certain  general  prin- 
ciples which  seem  to  be  essential  in  making  any  selec- 
tion either  of  verse  or  prose  which  shall  possess  broader 
and  more  enduring  qualities  than  that  of  being  a  mere 
exhibition  of  the  editor ^s  personal  taste.  To  illus- 
trate my  meaning:  Emerson^s  Parnassus  is  extremely 
interesting  as  an  exposition  of  the  tastes  and  prefer- 
ences of  a  remarkable  man  of  great  and  original  genius. 
As  an  anthology  it  is  a  failure,  for  it  is  of  awkward 
size,  is  ill  arranged,  and  contains  selections  made  with- 
out system,  and  which  in  many  cases  baffle  all  attempts 
to  explain  their  appearance.  On  the  other  hand,  Mr. 
Palgrave,  neither  a  very  remarkable  man  nor  a  great 
and  original  genius,  gave  us  in  the  first  Golden  Treas- 
ury a  collection  which  has  no  interest  whatever  as  re- 
flecting the  tastes  of  the  editor,  but  which  is  quite 
perfect  in  its  kind.  Barring  the  disproportionate 
amount  of  Wordsworth,  which  includes  some  of  his 
worst  things  —  and  which,  be  it  said  in  passing,  was 
due  to  Mr.  Palgrave's  giving  way  at  that  point  to  his 
personal  enthusiasm  —  the  Golden  Treasury  in  form, 
in  scope,  and  in  arrangement,  as  well  as  in  almost 


232  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

unerring  taste,  is  the  best  model  of  what  an  anthology 
should  be  which  is  to  be  found  in  any  language. 

Returning  now  to  our  questioner  who  misses  some 
favorite  and  finds  something  else  which  he  dislikes, 
the  only  answer,  as  I  have  just  said,  is  that  the  col- 
lection is  formed  on  certain  general  principles,  as  any 
similar  collection  of  the  sort  must  be.  This  series  is 
called  ''The  Best  of  the  World's  Classics,"  and  "clas- 
sics" is  used  not  in  the  narrow  and  technical  sense,  but 
rather  in  that  of  Thoreau,  who  defined  classics  as  ''the 
noblest  recorded  thoughts  of  mankind."  Therefore, 
the  first  principle  of  guidance  in  selection  is  to  take 
examples  of  the  great  writings  which  have  moved  and 
influenced  the  thought  of  the  world,  and  which  have 
pre-eminently  the  quality  of  "high  seriousness,"  as 
required  by  Aristotle.  This  test  alone,  however, 
would  Hmit  the  selections  too  closely.  Therefore  the 
second  principle  of  choice  is  to  make  selections  from 
writers  historically  important  either  personally  or  by 
their  writings.  The  third  rule  is  to  endeavor  to  give 
selections  which  shall  be  representative  of  the  various 
literatures  and  the  various  periods  through  which 
the  collection  ranges.  Lastly,  and  this  applies,  of 
course,  only  to  passages  taken  from  the  writers  of 
England  and  the  United  States,  the  effort  has  been 
to  give  specimens  of  the  masters  of  English  prose,  of 
that  prose  in  its  development  and  at  its  best,  and  to 
show,  so  far  as  may  be,  what  can  be  accomplished  with 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  233 

that  great  instrument,  and  what  a  fine  style  really 
is  as  exhibited  in  the  best  models.  Everything  con- 
tained in  these  volumes  is  there  in  obedience  to  one  at 
least  of  these  principles,  many  in  obedience  to  more 
than  one,  some  in  conformity  to  all  four. 

No  one  will  become  a  scholar  or  a  master  of  any  of 
the  great  literatures  here  represented  by  reading  this 
collection.  Literature  and  scholarship  are  not  to  be 
had  so  cheaply  as  that.  Yet  is  there  much  profit  to 
be  had  from  these  little  volumes.  They  contain  many 
passages  which  merit  Doctor  Johnson's  fine  saying 
about  books:  ''That  they  help  us  to  enjoy  life  or  teach 
us  to  endure  it.''  To  the  man  of  letters,  to  the  man  of 
wide  reading,  they  will  at  least  serve  to  recall,  when  far 
from  libraries  and  books,  those  authors  who  have 
been  the  delight  and  the  instructors  of  a  lifetime. 
They  will  surely  bring  with  them  the  pleasures  of 
memory  and  that  keener  delight  which  arises  when 
we  meet  a  poem  or  a  passage  of  prose  which  we  know 
as  an  old  and  well-loved  friend,  remote  from  home, 
upon  some  alien  page. 

To  that  larger  public  whose  lives  are  not  spent 
among  books  and  libraries,  and  for  whose  delecta- 
tion such  a  collection  as  this  is  primarily  intended, 
these  volumes  rightly  read  at  odd  times,  in  idle  mo- 
ments, in  out-of-the-way  places,  on  the  ship  or  the 
train,  offer  much.  They  will  bring  the  reader  in  con- 
tact with  many  of  the  greatest  intellects  of  all  time. 


234  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

They  contain  some  of  the  noblest  thoughts  that  have 
passed  through  the  minds  of  our  weak  and  erring 
race.  There  is  no  man  who  will  not  be  the  better, 
for  the  moment,  at  least,  by  reading  what  Cicero  says 
about  old  age,  Seneca  about  death,  and  Socrates 
about  love,  to  go  no  further  for  examples  than  to 

"  The  glory  that  was  Greece, 
And  the  grandeur  that  was  Rome." 

Moreover,  the  bowing  acquaintance  which  can  be 
formed  here  may  easily  offer  attractions  which  will 
lead  to  a  close  and  intimate  friendship,  with  all  that 
the  word  implies,  in  the  case  of  a  great  author  or  a 
great  book.  It  seems  to  me,  for  example,  as  if  no 
one  who  reads  here  the  brief  extracts  from  Erasmus 
or  from  Cervantes,  to  take  at  random  two  writers 
widely  separated  in  thought,  could  fail  to  pursue  the 
acquaintance  thus  begun,  so  potent  are  the  sympa- 
thetic charm,  the  wit,  the  wisdom,  and  the  humor  of 
both  these  great  men.  There  is,  at  least,  variety  in 
these  little  volumes,  and  while  many  things  in  them 
may  not  appeal  to  us,  they  may  to  our  neighbor.  That 
which  "is  dumb  to  us  may  speak  to  him." 

Again,  let  it  be  noticed  that  there  is  much  more 
than  the  "high  seriousness,"  which  is  the  test  of  the 
greatest  prose  as  of  the  finest  poetry.  Humor  and 
pathos,  tragedy  and  comedy,  all  find  their  place,  and 
glimpses  of  the  pageant  of  human  history  flit  through 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  235 

the  pages.  It  would  seem  as  if  it  were  impossible  to 
read  extracts  from  Thucydides  and  Tacitus  and 
Gibbon  and  not  long  to  go  to  their  histories  and  read 
all  that  could  be  said  by  such  men  about  the  life  of 
man  upon  earth,  about  Athens  and  Rome  and  the 
rise  and  fall  of  empires.  Selections  are  unsatisfying, 
and  the  better  they  are  the  more  unsatisfying  they 
become.  But  this  is  in  reality  their  true  merit. 
They  have  much  beauty  in  themselves,  they  awaken 
pleasant  memories,  they  revive  old  delights,  but, 
above  all,  if  rightly  read  they  open  the  gates  to  the 
illimitable  gardens  whence  all  the  flowers  which  have 
here  been  gathered  may  be  found  blooming  in  radiance, 
unplucked  and  unbroken  and  rooted  in  their  native 
soil. 

The  most  important  part  of  the  collection  is  that 
which  gives  selections  from  those  writers  whose  native 
tongue  is  English.  No  translation  even  of  prose  can 
ever  quite  reproduce  its  original,  and,  as  a  rule,  cannot 
hope  to  equal  it.  There  are  many  translations,  notably 
the  Elizabethan,  which  are  extremely  fine  in  them- 
selves and  memorable  examples  of  English  prose. 
Still,  they  are  not  the  original  writings.  Something 
escapes  in  the  translation  into  another  tongue,  an  im- 
palpable something  which  cannot  be  held  or  trans- 
mitted. The  Bible  stands  alone,  a  great  literaiy  mon- 
ument of  the  noblest  and  the  most  beautiful  Eng- 
lish, which  has  formed  English  speech  and  become  a 


236  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

part  of  the  language  as  it  is  of  the  thought  and  emotion 
of  the  people  who  read  the  ^'King  James"  version  in 
all  parts  of  the  globe.  Yet  we  know  that  this  version, 
which  the  people,  so  fortunate  in  its  possession,  wisely 
and  absolutely  decline  to  give  up  in  exchange  for  any 
revision,  is  neither  an  accurate  nor  a  faithful  repro- 
duction of  its  original.  Therefore,  putting  aside  the 
English  Bible  as  wholly  by  itself,  it  may  be  safely 
said  that  the  soul  of  a  language  and  the  beauties  of 
style  which  it  is  capable  of  exhibiting  can  only  be 
found  and  studied  in  the  productions  of  writers  who 
not  only  think  in  the  language  in  which  they  write, 
but  to  whom  that  speech  is  native,  the  inalienable 
birthright  and  heritage  of  their  race  or  country.  In 
such  writers  we  get  not  only  the  thought,  the  humor, 
or  the  pathos,  all  that  can  be  transferred  in  a  trans- 
lation, but  also  the  pleasure  to  the  ear  akin  to  music, 
the  sense  of  form,  the  artistic  gratification  which  form 
brings,  all  those  attributes  which  are  possible  in  the 
highest  degree  to  those  only  to  whom  the  language  is 
native. 

For  these  reasons,  as  will  be  readily  understood,  in 
making  selections  from  those  writers  whose  mother 
tongue  is  English,  specimens  have  been  given  of  all 
periods  from  the  earliest  time  and  occasionally  of 
authors  who  would  not  otherwise  find  a  place  in  such 
a  collection,  for  the  purpose  of  tracing  in  outline  the 
development  of  English  prose  and  the  formation  of  an 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  237 

English  style  which,  like  all  true  and  great  styles,  is 
peculiar  to  the  language  and  cannot  be  reproduced  in 
any  other.  This  is  not  the  place,  nor  would  it  be 
feasible  within  any  reasonable  limits,  to  narrate  the 
history  of  English  prose.  But  in  these  selections  it 
is  possible  to  follow  its  gradual  advance  from  the  first 
rude  and  crude  attempts  through  the  splendid  ir- 
regularities of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries  to 
the  establishment  of  a  standard  of  style  in  the  eight- 
eenth and  thence  onward  to  the  modifications  and 
changes  in  that  standard  which  extend  to  our  own 
time. 

The  purpose  of  this  collection  is  not  didactic.  If 
it  were  it  would  be  a  school-book  and  not  an  anthology 
in  the  Greek  sense,  where  the  first  principle  was  to 
seek  what  was  of  literary  value,  artistic  in  expression, 
and  noble  in  thought.  Yet  the  mere  bringing  together 
of  examples  of  prose  from  the  writings  of  the  great 
masters  of  style  cannot  but  teach  a  lesson  never  more 
needed  than  now. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this  to  suggest  imitation  of  any 
writer.  Nothing  is  more  dangerous,  especially  when 
the  style  of  the  writer  imitated  is  pecuHar  and  strongly 
marked.  That  which  is  valuable  and  instructive  is 
the  opportunity  given  here  for  a  study  of  fine  English 
styles,  and  in  this  way  to  learn  the  capabilities  of  the 
language  and  the  general  principles  which  have  gov- 
erned the  production  of  the  best  English  prose.    We 


238  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

have  in  the  English  language  an  unequalled  richness  of 
vocabulary  far  surpassing  in  extent  that  of  any  other. 
It  possesses  a  great  Hterature  and  a  body  of  poetry- 
unrivalled  in  modern  times.  It  is  not  only  one  of  the 
strongest  bonds  of  union  in  the  United  States,  but 
it  is  the  language  in  which  our  freedom  was  won  and 
in  which  our  history  and  our  laws  are  written.  It  is 
our  noblest  heritage.  To  weaken,  corrupt,  or  deprave 
it  would  be  a  misfortune  without  parallel  to  our  entire 
people.  Yet  we  cannot  disguise  from  ourselves  the 
fact  that  the  fertility  of  the  printing-press,  the  multi- 
plication of  cheap  magazines,  and  the  flood  of  printed 
words  poured  out  daily  in  the  newspapers  all  tend 
strongly  in  this  direction.  This  is  an  era  of  haste  and 
huriy  stimulated  by  the  great  inventions  which  have 
changed  human  environment.  Form  and  style  in  any 
art  require  time,  and  time  seems  the  one  thing  we  can 
neither  spare  nor  wisely  economize.  Yet,  in  literature 
above  all  arts,  to  abandon  form  and  style  is  inevitably 
destructive  and  entails  misfortunes  which  can  hardly 
be  estimated,  for  loose,  weak,  and  vulgar  writing  is  a 
sure  precursor  of  loose,  weak,  and  vulgar  thinking.  If 
form  of  expression  is  cast  aside,  form  in  thought  and 
in  the  presentation  of  thought  is  certain  to  follow. 
Against  all  this  the  fine  English  prose  amply  represented 
in  these  selections  offers  a  silent  and  convincing  pro- 
test to  every  one  who  will  read  it  attentively. 
We  can  begin  with  the  splendid  prose  of  the  age 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  239 

of  Elizabeth  and  of  the  seventeenth  century.    It  is 
irregular  and  untamed,  but  exuberant  and  brilliant, 
rich  both  in  texture  and  substance.    We  find  it  at  its 
height  in  the  strange  beauties  of  Sir  Thomas  Browne, 
in  the  noble  pages  of  Milton,  stiff  with  golden  em- 
broidery, as  Macaulay  says,  and  in  the  touching  and 
beautiful  simplicity  of  Bunyan's  childlike  sentences. 
Thence   we  pass  to   the   eighteenth  century,   when 
English  prose  was  freed  from  its  involutions  and  ir- 
regularities and  brought  to  uniformity  and  to  a  stand- 
ard.   The  age  of  Anne  gave  to  English  prose  balance, 
precision,  and  settled  form.     There  have  been  periods 
of  greater  originality,  but  the  eighteenth  century  at 
least  lived  up  to  Pope's  doctrine,  set  forth  in  the  famil- 
iar line: 

"What  oft  was  thought  but  ne'er  so  well  exprest." 

As  there  is  no  better  period  to  turn  to  for  instruc- 
tion than  the  age  of  Anne,  so,  if  we  must  choose  a 
single  writer,  there  is  no  better  master  to  be  studied 
than  Swift.  There  have  been  many  great  writers  and 
many  fine  and  beautiful  styles  since  the  days  of  the 
terrible  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  from  the  imposing  and 
fmely  balanced  sentences  of  Gibbon  to  the  subtle  deli- 
cacy of  Hawthorne  and  the  careful  finish  of  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson.  But  in  Swift  better  than  in  any  one 
writer  can  we  find  the  lessons  which  are  so  sorely 
needed  now.     He  had  in  the  highest  degree  force, 


240  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

clearness,  and  concentration  all  combined  with  a 
marvellous  simplicity.  Swift's  style  may  have  lacked 
richness,  but  it  never  failed  in  taste.  There  is  not  a 
line  of  false  fine  writing  in  all  his  books.  Those  are 
the  qualities  which  are  so  needed  now,  simplicity  and 
clearness  and  a  scrupulous  avoidance  of  that  would-be 
fine  writing  which  is  not  at  all  fine  but  merely  vulgar 
and  insincere. 

The  writing  in  our  newspapers  is  where  reform  is 
particularly  needed.  There  are  great  journals  here 
and  there  which  maintain  throughout  a  careful  stand- 
ard of  good  and  sober  English.  Most  of  them, 
unhappily,  are  too  often  filled  in  the  news  columns,  at 
least,  with  a  strange  jargon  found  nowhere  else,  spoken 
by  no  one,  and  never  used  in  daily  life  by  those  who 
every  night  furnish  it  to  the  compositors.  It  is  happily 
compounded  in  about  equal  parts  of  turgid  fine  writ- 
ing, vulgar  jauntiness,  and  indiscriminate  slang. 

I  can  best  show  my  meaning  by  an  example.  A 
writer  in  a  newspaper  wished  to  state  that  a  man  who 
had  once  caused  excitement  by  a  book  of  temporary 
interest  and  who,  after  the  days  of  his  notoriety  were 
over,  lived  a  long  and  checkered  career,  had  killed 
himself.    This  is  the  way  he  said  it: 

His  life's  work  void  of  fruition  and  dissipated  into  empti- 
ness, his  fondest  hopes  and  ambitions  crumbled  and  scattered, 
shunned  as  a  fanatic,  and  unable  to  longer  wage  life's  battle, 
Hinton  Rowan  Helper,  at  one  time  United  States  consul  gen- 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  241 

eral  to  Buenos  Ayres,  yesterday  sought  the  darkest  egress  from 
his  woes  and  disappointments  —  a  suicide's  death. 

In  an  unpretentious  lodging-house  in  Pennsylvania  Avenue, 
near  the  Capitol,  the  man  who  as  much,  if  not  more  than  any 
other  agitator,  is  said  to  have  blazed  the  way  to  the  Civil  War, 
the  writer  who  stirred  this  nation  to  its  core  by  his  anti-slavery 
philippics,  and  the  promoter  with  the  most  gigantic  railroad 
enterprise  projected  in  the  history  of  the  world,  was  found 
gripped  in  the  icy  hand  of  death.  The  brain  which  gave  birth 
to  his  historic  writings  had  willed  the  stilling  of  the  heart  which 
for  three-quarters  of  a  century  had  palpitated  quick  and  high 
with  roseate  hopes. 

That  passage,  taken  at  hazard  from  a  newspaper, 
is  intended,  I  think,  to  be  fine  writing  of  an  imposing 
and  dramatic  kind.  Why  could  not  the  writer  have 
written  it,  a  little  more  carefully  perhaps,  but  still  in 
just  the  language  which  he  would  have  used  naturally 
in  describing  the  event  to  his  wife  or  friend  ?  Simply 
stated,  it  would  have  been  far  more  solemn  and  im- 
pressive than  this  turgid,  insincere  account  with  its 
large  words,  its  forced  note  of  tragedy,  and  its  split 
infinitive.  Let  me  put  beneath  it  another  description 
of  a  death-bed: 

The  blood  and  spirits  of  Le  Fevre,  which  were  waxing  cold 
and  slow,  and  were  retreating  to  their  last  citadel,  the  heart  — 
rallied  back,  —  the  film  forsook  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  —  he 
looked  up  wistfully  into  my  Uncle  Toby's  face,  —  then  cast  a 
look  upon  his  boy,  —  and  that  ligament,  fine  as  it  was,  —  was 
never  broken. 

Nature  instantly  ebbed  again, — the  film  returned  to  its  place. 


242  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

—  the  pulse  fluttered,  —  stopped,  —  went  on,  —  throbbed,  — 
stopped  again,  —  moved,  —  stopped,  —  shall  I  go  on  ?     No. 


This  famous  passage  is  neither  unintentional  senti- 
ment nor  unaffected  pathos.  The  art  is  apparent 
even  in  the  punctuation.  The  writer  meant  to  be 
touching  and  pathetic  and  to  awaken  emotions  of  ten- 
derness and  pity  and  he  succeeded.  The  description 
is  all  he  meant  it  to  be.  The  extract  from  the  news- 
paper arouses  no  emotion,  unless  it  be  resentment  at  its 
form,  and  leaves  us  cold  and  immoved.  The  other  is 
touching  and  pitiful.  Observe  the  manner  in  which 
Sterne  obtains  his  effect,  the  perfect  simplicity  and  good 
taste  of  every  word,  the  reserve,  the  gentleness,  the 
utter  absence  of  any  straining  for  effect.  The  one  de- 
scription died  the  day  it  appeared.  The  other  has 
held  its  place  for  a  century  and  a  half.  Are  not  the 
qualities  which  produced  such  a  result  worth  striving 
for? 

Let  me  take  another  haphazard  selection  from  a 
description  of  a  young  girl  entitled  as  such  to  every 
one's  kindness,  courtesy,  and  respect.  In  it  occurs 
this  sentence:  "The  college  girl  is  grammatical  in 
speech,  but  she  has  the  j oiliest,  chummiest  jargon  of 
slang  that  ever  rolled  from  under  a  pink  tongue." 
That  articulate  sounds  come  from  beneath  the  tongue 
is  at  least  novel  and  few  persons  are  fortunate  enough 
to  be  able  to  talk  with  that  portion  of  their  mouths. 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  243 

But  I  have  no  desire  to  dwell  either  upon  the  anatom- 
ical peculiarities  of  the  sentence  or  upon  its  abysmal 
vulgarity.  It  is  supposed  to  be  effective,  it  is  what  is 
appropriately  called  "breezy,"  it  is  a  form  of  words 
which  can  be  heard  nowhere  in  the  speech  of  men  and 
women.  Why  should  it  be  consigned  to  print?  It 
is  possible  to  describe  a  young  girl  attractively  and 
effectively  in  much  simpler  fashion.  Let  me  give  an 
example,  not  a  famous  passage  at  all,  from  another 
writer : 

She  shocked  no  canon  of  taste;  she  was  admirably  in  keeping 
with  herself,  and  never  jarred  against  surrounding  circumstances. 
Her  figure,  to  be  sure  —  so  small  as  to  be  almost  childlike  and 
so  elastic  that  motion  seemed  as  easy  or  easier  to  it  than  rest 
—  would  hardly  have  suited  one's  idea  of  a  countess.  Neither 
did  her  face  —  with  brown  ringlets  on  either  side  and  a  slightly 
piquant  nose,  and  the  wholesome  bloom,  and  the  clear  shade  of 
tan,  and  the  half  dozen  freckles,  friendly  remembrances  of  the 
April  sun  and  breeze  —  precisely  give  us  the  right  to  call  her 
beautiful.  But  there  was  both  lustre  and  depth  in  her  eyes. 
She  was  very  pretty;  as  graceful  as  a  bird  and  graceful  much 
in  the  same  way;  as  pleasant  about  the  house  as  a  gleam  of 
sunshine  falling  on  the  floor  through  a  shadow  of  twinkling 
leaves,  or  as  a  ray  of  firelight  that  dances  on  the  wall  while 
evening  is  drawing  nigh. 

Contrast  this  with  the  newspaper  sentence  and  the 
sensation  is  one  of  pain.  Again  I  say,  observe  the 
method  by  which  Hawthorne  gets  his  effect,  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  language,  the  balance  of  the  sentences, 


244  AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES 

the  reserve,  the  refinement,  and  the  final  imaginative 
touch  in  the  charming  comparison  with  which  the  pas- 
sage ends. 

To  blame  the  hard-working  men  who  write  for  the 
day  which  is  passing  over  them  because  they  do  not 
write  like  Sterne  and  Hawthorne  would  be  as  absurd 
as  it  would  be  unjust.  But  they  ought  to  recognize 
the  qualities  of  fine  English  prose;  they  ought  to  re- 
member that  they  can  improve  their  readers  by  giving 
them  good,  simple  English,  pure  and  undefiled,  and 
they  ought  not  to  debauch  the  public  taste  by  vulgar 
fine  writing  and  even  more  vulgar  light  writing.  In 
short,  they  ought  to  write  for  the  public  as  they  would 
talk  to  their  wives  and  children  and  friends;  a  little 
more  formally  and  carefully,  perhaps,  but  in  the  same 
simple  and  direct  fashion. 

For  the  prolific  authors  of  the  flood  of  stories  which 
every  month  bears  on  its  broad  bosom  many  tons  of 
advertisements,  no  such  allowance  need  be  made. 
They  are  not  compelled  to  furnish  copy  between  day- 
light and  dark.  They  need  a  course  of  study  in  Eng- 
lish prose  more  than  any  one  else,  and  they  would 
profit  by  the  effort.  As  a  class  they  seem  to  be  like 
the  young  man  in  Du  Maurier's  picture,  who,  being 
asked  if  he  had  read  Thackeray,  replies,  "  No.  I  nevah 
read  novels;  I  write  them." 

In  this  age  of  quickening  movement  and  restless 
haste,  it  is,  above  all  things,  important  to  struggle 


AS  TO  ANTHOLOGIES  245 

against  the  well-nigh  universal  inclination  to  abandon 
all  efforts  for  form  and  style.  They  are  the  true 
preservers  of  what  is  best  in  literature,  the  salt  which 
ought  never  to  lose  its  savor.  Those  who  use  English 
in  public  speech  and  public  writing  have  a  serious  re- 
sponsibility too  generally  forgotten  and  disregarded. 
No  single  man  can  hope  to  effect  much  by  any  plea 
he  can  make  in  behalf  of  the  use  of  good  English, 
whether  written  or  spoken.  But  no  one,  I  think,  can 
read  the  great  masterpieces  of  Enghsh  prose  and  not 
have  both  lesson  and  responsibility  brought  home  to 
him.  He  would  be  insensible,  indeed,  if  he  did  not 
feel  after  such  reading  that  he  was  a  sharer  in  the 
noble  heritage  which  it  behooved  him  to  guard  and 
cherish.  If  this  series  serves  no  other  purpose,  it  will 
exhibit  to  those  who  read  it  some  of  the  splendors  and 
the  beauties  of  English  prose.  It  will  at  least  open  the 
gates  of  literature  and  perhaps  lead  its  readers  to 
authors  they  have  not  known  before,  or  recall  the  words 
of  writers  who  have  entered  into  their  lives  and  thoughts 
and  thus  make  them  more  mindful  of  the  inestimable 
value  to  them  and  their  children  of  the  great  language 
which  is  at  once  their  birthright  and  their  inheritance. 


THE   ORIGIN   OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

"  Some  words  on  language  may  be  well  applied. 
And  take  them  kindly,  though  they  touch  your  pride. 
Words  lead  to  things." 

The  accepted  manner  of  defining  Americans,  either 
male  or  female,  in  the  London  comic  papers  or  in 
second-rate  English  novels  is  to  lard  their  speech 
plentifully  with  ''calculate"  and  "guess,"  and  with 
"well"  at  the  opening  of  each  sentence.  This  mode  of 
marking,  or  any  other,  is  in  itself  totally  unimportant, 
but  linguistically  it  is  not  without  interest,  for  while 
it  is  purely  conventional  as  now  used  and  has  no  re- 
lation to  any  American  habits  of  the  present  day, 
whether  good  or  bad,  it  is  pleasant  to  note  that  the 
hard-worked  insular  humorists  need  not  have  gone  so 
far  afield  to  find  the  words  necessary  for  the  identifica- 
tion of  Americans.  They  really  had  but  to  turn  to 
the  New  Letters  of  Thomas  Carlyle  (vol.  I,  p.  178)  and 
there  read  the  following  sentence:  "He  has  brought 
you  a  Fox's  book  of  Martyrs,  which  I  calculate  will  go 
in  the  parcel  to-day;  you  will  get  right  good  reading 
out  of  it,  I  guess. ^'  ^ 

*  The  italics  are  my  own. 
246 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     247 

This  was  a  private  letter  in  which  Carlyle  was  nei- 
ther satirizing  nor  imitating  anybody,  and  used  quite 
naturally  words  to  which  he  was  accustomed.  Yet 
every  one  of  those  which  are  printed  in  italics  is  em- 
ployed by  British  writers  to  characterize  American 
speech  and  to  show  at  the  same  time  how  vulgar  and 
degenerate  it  is.  "Calculate,"  as  used  by  Carlyle,  was 
three-quarters  of  a  century  ago  typically  American 
and  especially  characteristic  of  New  England.  It  is 
now  rarely  heard  anywhere  in  the  United  States. 

Carlyle^s  use  of  "guess''  in  the  American  fashion 
also,  as  meaning  to  "think"  or  "suppose,"  has  behind 
it  the  best  authority  —  one  at  least  much  older  than 
Shakespeare,  who  was  likewise  American  enough  "to 
guess";  for  Chaucer  says, in  the  Prologue  (I,  82),  "Of 
twenty  yeer  of  age,  he  was,  I  gesse."  Pope  uses 
"guess"  in  the  American  fashion  very  frequently  in 
his  letters.  (See  vol.  VI,  Courthope  edition,  pp.  66, 
69-71,  and  vol.  VII,  p.  230.)  Gray  has  the  American 
"guess"  in  his  letters  (vol.  II,  p.  109),  and  Coleridge 
was  addicted  to  it.  He  uses  it  in  Christabel  (Pickering 
edition,  1836,  vol.  II,  p.  32),  "I  guess,  'twas  frightful 
there  to  see,"  and  also  in  his  letters,  "I  guess  I  shall 
be  there  in  seven  days"  (vol.  I,  p.  434);  and  again 
(vol.  II,  p.  664),  "which  formed,  I  guess,  part  of  the 
impulse  which  occasioned  my  last  letter." 

Wordsworth  also  has  it  in  "He  was  a  lovely  youth, 
I  guess,"  a  line  which  it  seems  almost  cruel  to  quote. 


248     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

because  it  reflects  so  severely  upon  the  memory  of 
a  great  poet.  Indeed;  it  almost  surpasses  that  other 
bit  of  champion  prosaic  verse,  '^A  Mr.  Wilkinson,  a 
clergyman/'  so  beloved  of  Tennyson  and  Fitzgerald. 
Robert  Louis  Stevenson  writes,  "Otherwise  much  the 
same,  I  guess,"  quite  naturally  and  without  italics  or 
quotation  marks  (Letters,  edition  1899,  vol.  I,  p.  293). 
Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Pope,  Gray,  Coleridge,  Words- 
worth, Carlyle,  Stevenson  —  at  least  we  Americans 
sin  in  good  company  when  we  "guess,''  and  we  might 
aptly  say  to  the  insular  humorist  who  is  unread  in 
these  authors  that  it  is  better 

"...  to  err  with  Pope  than  shine  with  Pye." 

But  of  course,  seriously  speaking,  the  word  "guess" 
is  a  good  old  English  word,  and  the  American  usage 
is  both  excellent  and  correct,  as  well  as  far  truer  to  the 
tradition  and  spirit  of  the  language  than  the  British 
substitutes  of  "fancy,"  "imagine,"  or  "expect"; 
which  last  is  also  American  and  quite  grotesquely 
wrong,  because  it  can  properly  apply  only  to  the  future. 

Pope's  name  in  Byron's  line  is  a  reminder  that  the 
other  itahcized  phrase  of  "right  good"  in  Carlyle's 
letter  still  demands  a  word  of  explanation.  In  justice 
to  Carlyle  it  should  be  said,  in  passing,  that  he  is  not 
the  only  great  writer  of  that  period  who  used  "right 
good."  Dickens,  who  hated  Americans  and  all  things 
American  with  a  sleepless  hatred  difficult  now  to  com- 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     249 

prehend,  even  as  the  result  of  wounded  vanity,  speaks 
of  a  "right  good  income'^  in  one  of  his  letters  (Forster's 
Life,  Gadshill  edition,  vol.  I,  p.  481).  "Right  good'^ 
is  common  in  colloquial  speech  in  certain  parts  of  the 
United  States,  and  "real  good"  in  all.  Both  are,  as  I 
have  said,  colloquial;  neither  would  be  considered  good 
EngHsh  or  be  employed  by  any  careful  writer  or 
speaker.  Yet  I  am  sorry  to  say,  for  I  dislike  the  use 
of  either  phrase,  that  those  who  indulge  in  them  will 
find,  if  they  turn  to  Spencers  Anecdotes  (p.  2),  that 
Pope,  the  very  apostle  of  "correctness,"  speaks  of 
Prior  as  not  a  "right  good  man,"  and  a  little  later 
(p.  46)  is  quoted  as  saying  that  Garth,  Vanbrugh,  and 
Congreve  were  the  three  most  honest-hearted,  'Weal 
good  men  of  the  poetical  members  of  the  Edtcat  Club." 
I  have  tried  to  convince  myself  that  Pope,  if  correctly 
quoted  by  Spence,  used  "real"  as  an  adjective,  but 
the  punctuation  renders  this  explanation,  a  strained 
one  at  best,  impossible.  Yet  even  the  high  authority 
of  the  greatest  of  Queen  Anne^s  poets,  while  it  shows 
whence  Carlyle,  Dickens,  and  Americans  alike  derive 
these  phrases,  cannot  make  "right  good"  the  best 
EngHsh,  or  "real  good"  anything  but  a  vulgarism. 
Yet  it  is  well  for  the  British  critic  to  remember  that 
when  he  is  defending  our  common  language  from  these 
two  Americanisms  he  is  at  the  same  time  condemning 
Pope,  Dickens,  and  Carlyle,  who  would  be  surprised,  I 
think,  to  find  that  they  had  been  guilty  of  two  typical 


250     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

instances  of  American  shortcomings  in  the  difficult  art 
of  speaking  Enghsh. 

Let  me  pause  a  moment  before  I  go  further  to  say 
that  I  have  not  forgotten  Mr.  Lang's  reply  to  Mr. 
MatthewS;  who  had  been  printing  some  hideous  neol- 
ogisms and  coinages  taken  from  current  British  pub- 
HcationS;  of  which  we  in  the  United  States  were  quite 
guiltless.  Mr.  Lang  then  wrote:  "A  word  or  a  phrase 
does  not  become  a  Briticism  because  one  good  writer 
lets  it  fall  from  his  pen,  nor  because  it  appears  in  the 
prose  of  a  writer  of  advertisements";  and  again:  "I 
hope  Mr.  Matthews  will  understand  that  to  pick  a 
few  neologisms  or  vulgarisms  of  no  general  currency 
out  of  such  sources  as  he  searches  in  is  not  to  prove 
that  the  peccant  terms  are  in  general  national  use.'' 
If  Mr.  Lang  would  only  have  applied  these  rules  in 
criticising  the  English  spoken  by  a  majority  of  those 
who  now  use  and  love  that  splendid  speech,  it  would 
have  been  well.  But  this  does  not  concern  me  here. 
The  examples  I  have  thus  far  quoted  and  all  that  I 
shall  quote  are  not  culled  from  advertisements.  Still 
less  are  they  given  to  convict  the  inhabitants  of 
Great  Britain  of  using  neologisms  or  vulgarisms.  The 
phrases  I  quote  have  been  picked  up  casually  in  that 
desultory  reading  which  Doctor  Johnson  so  wisely  de- 
fended, and  which  was  not  indulged  in  with  any  lin- 
guistic purpose.  My  object  is  merely  to  show  that 
those  British  writers  who  talk  idiotically  (it  is  impos- 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     251 

sible  to  find  a  civil  word)  about  the  ^^  American  lan- 
guage'' and  groan  over  the  injury  wrought  in  our 
common  speech  by  American  innovations,  ought  to 
know  English  literature,  at  least  superficially,  before 
they  cry  out,  so  that  they  may  be  enabled  to  shriek 
intelhgently.  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Pope,  Gray,  Cole- 
ridge, Stevenson,  and  Carlyle  cannot  be  brushed  aside 
as  "advertisements"  or  as  good  writers  who  "let  fall 
a  word."  They  represent  the  best  English  of  their 
times,  and  the  phrases  they  used,  whether  good  or 
bad,  may  be  set  down  as  characteristic  and  accepted 
English  in  Great  Britain  at  their  respective  periods. 
The  employment  of  phrases  or  words  by  writers  like 
these  demonstrates  the  usage  of  the  time.  In  this  way 
we  get  the  pedigree  of  many  "Americanisms,"  and  it 
is  well  to  remember  that  because  the  men  who  brought 
Shakespeare's  and  Milton's  Enghsh  (the  only  English 
they  could  bring)  to  the  New  World  retained  phrases 
and  words  which  have  since  become  obsolete  in  Eng- 
land, it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  those  words  and 
phrases  thus  preserved  are  American  inventions  or 
dangerous  and  vulgar  innovations. 

As  showing  the  truth  of  what  I  have  just  said  let 
me  take  a  famiHar  illustration  which  when  followed  out 
in  detail  demonstrates  quite  perfectly  the  danger  of 
branding  a  word  or  its  use  as  an  "Americanism," 
simply  because  it  is  not  current  in  Great  Britain  to- 
day.   "Rare"  as  appHed  to  meat,  instead  of  the  Eng- 


252     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

lish  ^^  underdone/'  has  always  been  held  up  as  a  rank 
and  veiy  absurd  "  Americanism. '^  Let  us  see.  In 
''Christ's  Hospital  Twenty  Years  Ago/'  Lamb  (I  wish 
that  we  could  claim  him  as  an  American)  says:  "Por- 
tions of  the  same  flesh,  rotten  —  roasted  or  rare.^^ 
Here  is  the  American  usage.  Let  us  take  another  step 
backward  in  the  "abysm  of  time."  In  his  translation 
from  Ovid  of  the  story  of  Baucis  and  Philemon  Dry- 
den  writes: 

"And  new-laid  eggs,  which  Baucis'  busy  care 
Turned  by  a  gentle  fire  and  roasted  rare.^^ 

Now  we  can  guess  whence  "rare"  came  to  America. 
It  was  good  seventeenth-century  English,  and  the  Eng- 
lishmen who  came  to  America  brought  it  with  them 
and  their  descendants  kept  it.  But  whence  came  the 
word  with  that  significance  into  English?  It  has  a 
pedigree  outdaring  those  of  purest  Norman  descent. 
Turn  to  an  Anglo-Saxon  dictionary  and  you  will  find 
the  word,  "Hrere  —  rear  or  raw.^^  So  we  discover 
that  our  "Americanism"  of  "rare"  meat  is  purely 
Anglo-Saxon,  and  this  fact  suggests  that  before  accusing 
us  of  a  misuse  of  the  word  "rare"  English  critics  should 
learn  that  it  is  not  an  offspring  of  the  Latin  "rarus/' 
but  a  sound,  almost  unchanged,  Saxon  word  of  an  en- 
tirely different  meaning. 

Although  it  has  not  been  so  much  insisted  upon  lately, 
not  many  years  ago  —  from  the  time  of  Dickens  and 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     253 

the  American  Notes  onward  —  it  used  to  be  solemnly 
pointed  out  that  Americans  could  be  immediately 
identified  by  their  shocking  habit  of  using  ''well" 
constantly  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence,  either  re- 
flectively or  as  an  exclamation.  Some  years  since,  in 
a  brief  essay,  I  pointed  out  that  Shakespeare  con- 
stantly used  ''weir'  in  this  fashion  at  the  beginning  of 
sentences.  Since  then  I  have  noted  some  other  au- 
thors of  repute  who  were  guilty  of  this  habit,  thereby 
identifying  themselves  as  Americans  with  an  imper- 
fect knowledge  of  their  native  tongue.  It  occurs  con- 
stantly, for  example,  in  Sir  Thomas  Mallory's  version 
of  the  Morte  d' Arthur,  and  we  find  it  at  the  beginning 
of  one  of  Marlowe's  "mighty  lines"  when  Cosroe  says: 

"  Well,  since  I  see  the  state  of  Persia  droop." 

— Tamhurlaine,  Sc.  I. 

Another  phrase  for  which  we  Americans  were  wont 
to  be  censured  was  "good  time,"  in  the  sense  that  one 
had  enjoyed  one's  self.  The  clumsy  circumlocution 
necessaiy  to  explain  the  words  thus  combined  shows 
at  once  the  soundness  and  excellence  of  the  phrase.  Yet 
in  the  later  nineteenth  century  the  British  undertook 
to  restrict  the  use  of  "good  time"  to  a  woman's  confine- 
ment, just  as  in  the  same  period  they  insisted  that 
"sick,"  despite  Shakespeare  and  the  Bible  and  the 
Prayer-book,  must  be  limited  to  describing  nausea  and 
no  other  ill  that  flesh  is  heir  to. 


254     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

We  need  only  go  to  Dryden  to  demonstrate  that 
the  American  use  of  "good  time"  has  the  best  author- 
ity. In  Absalom  and  Achitophel  (Scott's  edition,  vol. 
IX,  p.  235)  occur  these  lines: 

"During  his  oflSce  treason  was  no  crime; 
The  sons  of  Belial  had  a  glorious  time." 

So  "glorious  time''  or  "good  time"  was  good  seven- 
teenth-century English,  approved  by  Dryden,  and  the 
English-speaking  people  in  America  used  it,  and 
being  isolated  in  those  days,  let  it  take  root  and  kept 
it.  They  were  wise  in  so  doing,  wiser  than  their  Eng- 
lish brethren,  for  it  is  a  terse,  sound  phrase,  good 
English,  and  not  easily  replaced.  It  must  in  justice 
be  said  that  the  British  are  now  coming  round  to  the 
usage  of  Dryden  and  of  the  United  States.  Stevenson 
says  in  one  of  the  Vailima  Letters :  "  I  have  the  loveliest 
time."  Henry  Greville  uses  "pleasant  time"  in  the 
American  sense  in  1854  (vol.  I,  series  I,  p.  181).  Sir 
Leslie  Stephen,  than  whom  there  was  no  more  careful 
writer,  uses  "good  time"  in  the  American  sense  in  his 
introduction  to  the  letters  of  J.  R.  Green  (p.  22),  and 
I  have  also  found  it  employed  in  similar  fashion  by 
Canon  Ainger  (Life,  p.  142),  who  was  certainly  most 
fastidious  in  all  things  literary.  So  we  may  feel  sure, 
I  think,  that  this  sound  seventeenth-century  "Amer- 
icanism" has  been  vindicated  and  is  returning  to  the 
complete  possession  of  that  wide  application  of  which 
insular  usage  tried  at  one  time  to  deprive  it. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     255 

In  the  same  way  ''mad"  was  used  with  the  Amer- 
ican sense  of  "angry"  in  the  seventeenth  century.  We 
find  it  in  Pepys  (vol.  II,  p.  72).  It  is  also  found  in 
Defoe  (The  Compleat  Gentleman,  p.  158) : 

"My  lord,"  said  I,  "you  are  in  a  passion." 
"  It  makes  me  mad,"  said  he. 

Again,  in  Robinson  Crusoe,  "Friday,"  who  is  learning 
English  from  his  master,  says:  "Why,  you,  angry 
mad"  (Everyman's  edition,  p.  163). 

In  both  these  instances  it  is  used  expHcitly  in  the 
sense  of  angry,  but  with  Defoe,  as  with  Pepys,  it  seems 
to  be  wholly  colloquial.  Yet  still  it  remamed  in  use, 
never  sinking  apparently  to  the  condition  of  a  vulgar- 
ism or  of  mere  slang.  The  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
century  usage,  lost  in  England,  has  been  retained  in 
the  United  States,  and  the  employment  of  the  word 
in  the  sense  of  angry  has  continued  imchanged.  No 
good  writer  or  speaker  would  use  it  either  in  book  or 
speech,  but  in  the  common  talk  of  daily  life  "mad" 
for  angry  is  still  thought  permissible,  and  if  neither 
elegant  nor  of  literary  propriety,  it  is  equally  removed 
from  being  considered  a  mere  vulgarism. 

The  word  "ride"  presents  a  very  similar  case.  I 
was  brought  up  to  use  "ride"  only  with  reference  to 
riding  on  horseback,  but  American  usage  has  extended 
its  application  to  being  carried  in  any  form  of  con- 
veyance, whether  in  carriages  or  horse-drawn  vehicles. 


256     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

which  was  formerly  described  as  "driving,"  or  in  street- 
cars, railroad-trains,  motor-cars,  or  even  in  boats.  I 
had  supposed  this  misappHcation  of  ''ride"  as  it  ap- 
peared to  me  was  a  modern  growth,  but  I  found  with 
some  surprise  that  Pope  in  his  letters  (vol.  VIII,  p. 
349)  applied  it  to  being  carried  in  vehicles  generally. 
Here  again  the  American  use  dates  back  to  the  English 
usage  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

Another  word  not  infrequently  employed,  like  "  calcu- 
late," to  mark  an  American  in  English  books  and  comic 
papers  is  "smart"  in  the  sense  of  "bright,"  "quick," 
"clever,"  descriptive  of  the  intelligence,  but  with  a 
shade  of  meaning  which  none  of  these  equivalents 
exactly  conveys.  The  word  in  this  form  is  widely 
diffused  in  the  United  States,  although  it  has  been, 
perhaps,  peculiarly  characteristic  of  New  England, 
where  "smartness"  of  that  kind  was  greatly  admired. 
In  England  "smart"  has  of  late  been  applied  only  to 
external  objects,  to  appearance,  to  dress,  to  equipages, 
and  the  like.  Both  usages  are  old  and  good.  One  has 
been  largely  abandoned  in  England,  both  have  remained 
in  America.  We  find  "smart"  appHed  to  dress  in  a 
Lincolnshire  Tale,  cited  by  Halliwell  in  his  Dictionaiy 
of  Archaisms.  On  the  other  hand,  the  word  is  em- 
ployed in  the  American  sense  by  Goldsmith  in  The 
Citizen  of  the  World  (vol.  II,  p.  153),  who  there  speaks 
of  a  "youth  of  smart  parts."  Again  he  speaks  of 
"smart  verses"    (vol.   II,  p.   451).    We  learn  from 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     257 

Dickens's  immortal  description  of  the  E^tanswill  elec- 
tion that  Fizkin's  agent  was  a  "smart  fellow;   very 
smart  fellow  indeed."     Oilman  in  his  unfinished  Life 
of  Coleridge  says  (p.  259),  "he  (Coleridge)  was  accord- 
ing to  modern  phraseology  'smart  and  clever/  "    Gil- 
man's  book  appeared  in  1838,  and  this  statement  is 
curious,  for  it  seems  to  indicate  that  the  American 
usage,  familiar  to  Goldsmith,  was  making  a  reappear- 
ance in  England,  and  was  regarded  as  a  novelty.    If 
it  did  so  appear  the  word  evidently  failed  to  make  its 
way  at  that  time.    Another  interesting  thing  in  Gil- 
man's  sentence  is  that  he  includes  "clever"  in  the 
quotation  marks  with  "smart,"  as  if  "clever"  in  the 
sense  of  quick  and  intelligent  was  a  novel  usage,  one 
not  thoroughly  established.    "Clever"  is  now  gener- 
ally, if  not  exclusively,  used  in  that  sense  in  both  Great 
Britain  and  the  United  States;  but  in  the  middle  of  the 
last  century  and  for  twenty  years  later  "clever"  was 
used  universally  in  New  England,  and  quite  generally, 
I  think,  in  the  United  States,  in  the  sense  of  "good- 
natured,"  "honest  and  kindly,"  without  any  sugges- 
tion of  keen  intelligence.    I  well  remember  hearing 
people  say  sometimes  when  using  the  word  in  what  is 
now  the  universally  accepted  manner,  "I  mean  English 
clever."    It  seems  evident  that  the  old  use  of  "smart" 
in  both  senses  continued  in  England  down  to  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  then  the  application  of 
the  word  to  a  man's  intelligence  disappeared,  while  in 


258     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

America  both  applications  survived.  As  to  "clever" 
in  the  old  American  sense  of  "good-natured"  not  only- 
Goldsmith,  but  Gray  in  his  Letters  (vol.  II,  p.  318), 
is  a  witness  that  this  use  of  the  word  was  in  good 
and  recognized  standing  in  the  England  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century.  The  usage  lingered  on  in  the  popular 
speech  of  America  long  after  it  had  disappeared  in 
England,  and  now,  although  still  occasionally  heard  in 
the  United  States,  has  been  practically  abandoned  in 
both  countries. 

"Different  from"  can  hardly  be  called  an  American- 
ism, because  it  can  be  found  in  English  writers  of  the 
highest  mark  at  all  periods.  Byron,  for  example, 
used  "different  from"  in  his  letters  (Prothero  edition, 
vol.  IV,  p.  422),  and  so,  too,  does  Matthew  Arnold  in 
his  (vol.  XIII,  I,  p.  79).  But  during  the  last  century 
a  fashion  grew  up  in  England  of  saying  and  writ- 
ing "different  to."  I  have  met  with  it  in  many 
recent  authors  of  repute,  and  some  Americans  —  the 
few  who  like  to  ape  English  habits,  good  or  bad  —  un- 
dertook to  use  it  in  this  country  with  very  slight  suc- 
cess. There  never  was  either  warrant  or  reason  for 
"different  to"  and  it  is  clearly  ungrammatical,  as  was 
strongly  shown  by  a  writer  in  the  Spectator  not  long 
since  in  an  article  condemning  this  practice  among 
some  of  his  countrymen.  "Different  from"  is  not  only 
correct,  but  if  any  one  desires  authority  he  can  find 
a  great  one  in  Doctor  Johnson,  who  uses  it  in  his  letters 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     259 

(Hill  edition,  I,  p.  189).  Charles  Fox  also  used  "dif- 
ferent from''  in  speaking  (Landor's  Commentary,  p. 
39).  The  universal  American  usage,  I  am  glad  to 
think,  is  again  prevailing  in  England,  where  it  was  set 
aside  only  in  obedience  to  some  strange  freak  for  which 
no  cause  can  be  alleged. 

The  best  statement  of  the  case  can  be  found  in  a 
letter  from  "Lewis  Carroll,''  author  of  the  AHce  books, 
to  Miss  Edith  Rix  in  1886.  He  says:  "Now  I  come  to 
your  letter  dated  December  22d  and  must  scold  you 
for  saying  that  my  solution  of  the  problem  was  'quite 
different  to  all  common  ways  of  doing  it.'  If  you  think 
that's  good  English,  well  and  good;  but  I  must  beg  to 
differ  to  you  and  to  hope  you  will  never  write  me  a 
sentence  similar  from  this  again."  ^ 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  also,  it  was  the 
fashion  in  England  to  condemn  "mutual  friend"  and 
insist  upon  "common  friend."  The  latter  never  ef- 
fected a  lodgment  in  America  except  among  those 
who  wished  to  be  "different  to"  their  fellow-country- 
men. Without  discussing  the  merits  of  the  two  forms, 
it  may  be  noted  that  there  is  excellent  and  abundant 
authority  for  the  American  usage.  Not  only  did 
Dickens  use  "Mutual  Friend"  as  the  title  of  one  of  his 
novels,  but  I  have  found  it  more  than  a  century  earlier 
in  one  of  Sterne's  letters  to  Lydia  (Letter  II,  1740), 

*  I  owe  this  quotation  to  the  kindness  of  my  friend,  Mr.  Edward 
Robinson,  director  of  the  Metropolitan  Museum. 


260     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

and  have  also  come  across  it  in  both  Oilman's  and 
Cottle's  Memoirs  of  Coleridge  and  in  Lavengro  (p. 
200,  chap.  33,  Everyman's  edition),  as  well  as  in  Mr. 
Dyce's  preface  to  his  edition  of  Marlowe.  Byron  in 
his  conversations  with  Lady  Blessington  (pp.  3  and  4) 
and  Thackeray  in  Party  Giving  Snobs  and  twice  in 
the  Romidabout  Paper,  ^^On  a  joke  I  heard  from  the 
Late  Thomas  Hood,"  are  both  guilty  of  the  American- 
ism "mutual  friend."  Thomas  Campbell  in  his  Life 
of  Mrs.  Siddons  (American  edition,  1834,  p.  98)  speaks 
of  meeting  "our  mutual  friend." 

Turning  from  words  and  phrases  which  are  admitted 
to  good  verbal  society,  there  are  some  curious  and 
ancient  pedigrees  to  be  found  for  others  which  do  not 
now  pass  beyond  popular  speech  and  are,  in  many  in- 
stances, still  lower  in  the  scale,  never  having  risen  above 
the  level  of  slang. 
r~^" Tramps"  for  vagrants  has  risen  to  an  estabhshed 
'  position  and  may  be  said  to  be  accepted  in  literature. 
But  its  lowly  origin  as  convenient  slang  is  still  recent, 
and  yet  I  find  that  it  was  used  by  De  Quincey  (Con- 
\  fessions,  vol.  I,  p.  147),  who  says,  "tramps  as  they  are 
i  called  in  Solemn  Acts  of  Parliament."  So  the  ancestry 
,  of  this  Americanism  is  not  only  old  English,  but  has 
^statutory  recognition. 

"Slouch"  as  a  noun,  and  generally  in  the  form  "he's 
no  slouch,"  to  express  extreme  effectiveness  or  skill, 
was  widely  used  some  years  ago  in  the  United  States. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     261 

The  word  is  good  English  in  other  connections,  and  in 
the  slang  form  was  vigorous  and  expressive.  But 
we  cannot  claim  priority  of  invention  in  this  phrase,  for 
Gay  in  his  first  Pastoral  (vol.  I,  p.  77,  Underhill  edi- 
tion) writes,  "Thou  vaunting  slouch."  I  also  noticed 
that  Michael  Kelly  in  his  Reminiscences,  published  in 
1825  (vol.  II,  p.  54),  says:  "Captain  Stanley,  who 
for  many  years  was  no  slouch  at  the  bottle,"  which 
shows  that  the  phrase  was  current  in  England  at  that 
time. 

Many  years  older  than  "slouch"  used  as  slang  was 
the  use  of  the  word  "notions"  in  popular  American 
speech,  and  especially  in  New  England,  where  it  might 
be  seen  as  a  sign  over  village  shops  to  indicate  to 
passers-by  that  all  sorts  of  things,  and  particularly 
articles  of  dress,  might  be  bought  within.  "Yankee 
notions"  was  a  current  and  common  phrase.  This, 
like  so  many  other  words  in  America,  was  a  case  of 
survival  in  the  New  World  of  a  usage  which  had  faded 
out  in  the  Old.  How  old  it  was  I  do  not  know,  but 
that  it  was  well  understood  in  England  in  the  American 
sense  during  the  eighteenth  century  is  clear,  for  Young 
in  his  Night  Thoughts  (Book  II)  has  these  lines: 

"  And  other  worlds  send  odours,  sauce  and  song, 
And  robes  and  notions  framed  in  foreign  looms  I" 

"Yankee  notions,"  which  smacks  so  strongly  of 
New  England  in  earlier  days,  reminds  me  of  the  old 


262     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

pronunciation  in  that  part  of  the  country  of  "shire" 
as  "sheer.'*  Within  thirty  years  "Shiretown"  was 
generally  pronounced  "Sheer-town''  by  the  country 
folk  of  New  England.  This  pronunciation  or  that 
which  makes  it  "sher"  continues,  of  course,  univer- 
sally where  "shire"  is  a  final  syllable,  but  when 
used  alone  or  at  the  beginning  of  a  word  phonetic 
spelling  has  triumphed,  and  shire  is  pronounced  as 
spelled.  Yet  the  old  Yankee  pronunciation  was  not 
only  the  old  English  practice,  but  was  that  of  culti- 
vated society  in  Queen  Anne's  day.  We  may  read  it 
in  the  prologue  to  the  Satires  (lines  364-365),  where 
Pope  writes: 

"  A  hireling  scribbler,  or  a  hireling  peer, 
Knight  of  the  post  corrupt,  or  of  the  shire." 

Swift,  on  the  other  hand,  makes  "shire"  as  a  ter- 
mination rhyme  with  "hire,"  which  would  be  rather 
forced  even  at  the  present  day. 

There  is  another  word,  now  growing  old-fashioned, 
I  think,  much  used  on  the  coast  in  fishing,  and  I  be- 
lieve, formerly  at  least,  widely  used  in  a  figurative 
sense,  signifying  to  entice,  or  to  draw  on  by  degrees. 
This  is  the  verb  to  "tole."  Whether  it  survives  in 
England  I  do  not  know,  but  in  American  speech  it 
still  continues  a  well-understood  and  descriptive  term. 
If  it  be  an  Americanism  it  is  one  our  earliest  settlers 
brought  with  them  from  England,  where  it  then  mingled 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     263 

in  the  best  society,  for  we  find  it  used  by  Fletcher  in 
the  Faithful  Shepherdess  (act  I,  sc.  I) : 

"  Or  voices  calling  me  in  the  dead  of  night, 
To  make  me  follow,  and  so  tole  me  on 
Through  mire  and  standing  pools  to  find  my  ruin." 

The  fact  that  Mr.  Dyce  thinks  a  note  necessaiy  to 
explain  the  meaning  of  'Hole"  leads  me  to  believe  that 
since  the  days  of  Fletcher  it  has  become  an  American- 
ism, and  has  been  lost  to  British  speech. 

There  is  another  phrase  common  in  New  England, 
if  not  in  the  United  States  generally,  which  has  an 
equally  long  and  even  more  distinguished  pedigree. 
It  occurs  in  inquiries  as  to  distance  or  in  stating  dis- 
tance by  asking:  "How  far  do  you  call  it  to  the  next 
town?"  Mrs.  Stopes  in  her  Lives  of  the  Burbages 
quotes  from  Macbeth  the  line,  "How  far  is't  called  to 
Forres?"  and  argues  that  as  this  is  a  pure  Scotch  idiom 
it  shows  that  Shakespeare  must  have  been  in  Scotland. 
As  I  have  just  said,  the  phrase  has  always  been  in 
common  use  in  New  England,  which  was  settled  in  the 
seventeenth  century  by  Shakespeare's  Englishmen,  and 
to  which  came  at  that  time  veiy  few,  if  any,  Scotch. 

Some  years  ago  a  Southern  member  of  Congress 
used  the  phrase,  "Where  are  we  at?"  which  had  a  suc- 
cess little  anticipated,  I  imagine,  by  its  author,  for  it 
was  caught  up  by  the  newspapers  and  passed  widely 
into  the  current  speech  of  the  moment.    I  think  it 


264     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

gained  its  attraction  not  merely  because  it  was  expres- 
sive, but  because  it  was  thought  odd  and  ungram- 
matical.  However  this  may  be,  the  phrase  was  not 
new,  for  Leigh  Hunt  in  his  introduction  to  the  Drama- 
tists of  the  Restoration  (p.  xviii)  writes:  "The  dra- 
matic power  of  Wycherly  would  not  have  known  what 
to  beat  with  the  unseasonable  and  arbitrary  superfluities 
of  Dryden."  The  parallel  is  not  exact,  but  the  relation- 
ship is  very  close.  "What  to  be  at,"  in  the  sense  of 
"what  to  do,"  is  not  far  removed  from  "where  are  we 
at,"  in  the  sense  of  "where  are  we." 

Leigh  Hunt,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  guilty  of  some- 
thing much  worse  than  this,  despite  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  only  a  graceful  writer,  but  an  accomplished 
man,  and  both  a  lover  and  student  of  literature.  He 
"let  fall  from  his  pen"  (Correspondence,  II,  p.  104, 
letter  to  R.  Bell,  1845)  the  entirely  odious  word 
"brainy."  It  is,  of  course,  quite  true  that  we  have 
both  "hearty"  and  "handy"  and  as  slang  "nervy," 
but  this  fact  does  not  seem  to  make  "brainy"  any 
more  tolerable  or  attractive.  I  fear  that  this  word 
must  now  be  called  an  Americanism,  for  it  may  be 
frequently  seen  in  our  newspapers,  and  not  even  the 
example  of  Leigh  Hunt  can  redeem  it  from  its  utter 
hideousness.  The  fact  is,  and  it  always  seems  a  very- 
strange  one,  that  many  of  our  newspaper  writers,  es- 
pecially our  reporters,  when  they  sit  down  to  address 
the  public  do  so  in  a  strange  language  found  only  in 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     265 

newspapers  and  which  they  would  never  think  of  using 
when  talking  or  writing  to  their  wives,  their  children, 
or  their  friends.  I  commend  to  their  consideration  the 
following  passage  from  Macaulay^s  Essay  on  Johnson: 

When  he  wrote  for  publication,  he  did  his  sentences  out  of 
English  into  Johnsonese.  His  letters  from  the  Hebrides  to 
Mrs.  Thrale  are  the  original  of  that  work  of  which  the  Journey 
to  the  Hebrides  is  the  translation ;  and  it  is  amusing  to  compare 
the  two  versions.  "  When  we  were  taken  upstairs,"  says  he  in 
one  of  his  letters,  "a  dirty  fellow  bounced  out  of  the  bed  on 
which  one  of  us  was  to  lie."  This  incident  is  recorded  in  the 
Journey  as  follows:  "Out  of  one  of  the  beds  on  which  we  were 
to  repose  started  up,  at  our  entrance,  a  man  black  as  Cyclops 
from  the  forge."  Sometimes  Johnson  translated  aloud.  "The 
Rehearsal,"  he  said,  very  unjustly,  "has  not  wit  enough  to  keep 
it  sweet";  then,  after  a  pause,  "it  has  not  vitality  enough  to 
preserve  it  from  putrefaction." 

Johnson  was  a  great  man  from  w^hom  much  wisdom 
may  be  learned,  but  here  he  gives  us  a  vivid  example, 
by  his  own  bad  habit,  of  what  to  avoid.  If  all  news- 
paper men  would  only  write  as  they  talk,  more  care- 
fully, of  course,  and  without  slang,  but  in  the  plain, 
simple,  excellent  w^ords  of  their  daily  speech,  they 
would  render  a  real  service  both  to  their  fellow-citizens 
and  to  the  English  language,  and  they  would  keep 
clear  of  such  repulsive  coinages  a^  ^'brainy,"  and  of 
such  abuses  of  language  and  meaning  as  the  employ- 
ment of  "probe"  in  the  sense  of  an  inquuy  or  investi- 
gation. 


266     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

This  objectionable  word  "brainy/'  however,  reminds 
me  of  another  slang  term  which  has  lately  come  into 
vogue.  This  is  "dotty,"  signifying  the  decay  of  the 
faculties  or  debility  of  mind.  I  was  interested  to  dis- 
cover in  the  Life  of  Edward  Fitzgerald  that  "dotty," 
with  precisely  the  same  significance  as  the  modern 
slang,  was  used  by  the  Suffolk  peasants.  Probably, 
therefore,  it  is  a  very  ancient  word,  although  a  recent 
immigrant  to  the  United  States. 

There  is  another  word,  of  interest  not  only  in  itself, 
but  on  account  of  the  brutal  action  which  it  repre- 
sented. In  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
both  word  and  custom  were  held  to  be  characteristic- 
ally American,  and  were  flung  at  us  as  a  reproach. 
Every  reader  of  Bon  Gaultier's  Ballads  will  remember 
the  veiy  savage  one  about  Jabez  Dollar,  which  at- 
tacked us  for  eveiy  conceivable  shortcoming,  but  par- 
ticularly for  "gouging"  as  a  recognized  mode  of  fight- 
ing by  forcing  out  an  opponent's  eyeball  with  the 
thumb  or  finger.  How  generally  this  barbarous  and 
unutterably  brutal  form  of  attack  was  diffused  among 
the  criminal  classes  or  the  wild  and  rough  population 
of  the  frontier  it  is  impossible  to  say.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  this  mode  of  savage  fighting,  as  well  as  the 
word  which  described  it,  was  unfortunately  well  known 
at  that  period  in  the  United  States.  But  we  came  by 
it  by  descent.  Both  word  and  habit  existed  in  York- 
shire.   Mrs.  Gaskell,  in  her  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte, 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     267 

when  describing  Haworth  (p.  26,  Haiper  edition) 
writes:  '^As  few  'shirked  their  liquor'  [the  occasion 
was  funeral  feasts]  there  were  very  frequently  'up  and 
down  fights'  before  the  end  of  the  day;  sometimes  with 
the  horrid  additions  of  'pawsing'  [apparently  a  pecul- 
iarly painful  mode  of  kicking]  and  'gouging'  and  bit- 
ing." From  this  part  of  England — where  is  also  found 
the  very  characteristic  American  word  "bottom" 
{ihid.,  p.  3)  to  describe  low-lying  lands  in  a  valley— came 
many  immigrants  to  colonial  and  provincial  America, 
bringing  their  words  and  customs,  good  or  bad,  with 
them,  and  "gouging"  was  one  of  the  latter.  So  the 
British  satirist,  with  his  eyes  tight  shut  toward  York- 
sliire,  held  us  up  to  scorn  as  peculiarly  guilty  of  a  par- 
ticularly brutal  kind  of  fighting. 

There  seems  to  be  a  moral  to  be  drawn  from  this 
identification  of  the  origin  of  a  word  and  custom,  and 
that  is  that  it  is  well  to  exercise  a  little  charity  as  well 
as  to  know  one's  ground  before  accusing  one's  neighbor 
of  either  barbarism  or  bad  English.  Indeed,  all  the 
pedigrees  which  I  have  brought  together,  and  which 
have  been  gathered  casually,  without  research,  from 
authors  whom  every  one  reads,  teach  the  same  lesson. 
There  is  no  particular  satisfaction,  although  there  is 
some  amusement,  in  pointing  out  the  origin  of  words 
and  phrases  which  reveal  the  absurdity  of  the  British 
fault-finding  that  sets  them  down  as  Americanisms  and 
as  vulgar  distortions  of  our  common  speech.     But 


268     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

there  is  something  far  more  important  than  this  in- 
volved in  any  study,  no  matter  how  shght,  of  the 
varying  forms  of  EngUsh  words,  and  that  is  the  lan- 
guage itself.  People  ordinarily  accept  the  language 
to  which  they  are  born  as  they  do  the  air  they  breathe, 
without  any  feeling  of  either  responsibility  or  grati- 
tude. Thousands  of  people,  especially  children  and 
college  youths,  are  set  or  set  themselves  to  the  work 
of  acquiring  foreign  tongues,  a  most  commendable 
labor,  and  never  learn  or  even  seek  to  learn  how  to 
speak  properly  or  write  intelligently  the  noble  lan- 
guage which  is  theirs  as  a  birthright.  Yet  is  the 
English  language  one  of  our  greatest  and  most  pre- 
cious possessions,  to  be  jealously  watched  and  guarded. 
To  take  only  the  practical  side,  I  have  often  wondered 
how  many  people  have  stopped  to  consider  that  our 
language  is  one  of  the  greatest  bonds  which  hold  the 
Union  together,  perhaps  the  strongest,  as  it  is  the  most 
impalpable  of  all.  If  it  were  not  for  our  common 
speech  Lincoln's  "mystic  chords''  would  be  dumb 
indeed.  In  the  language,  too,  lies  the  best  hope  of 
assimilating  and  Americanizing  the  vast  masses  of 
immigrants  who  every  year  pour  out  upon  our  shores, 
for  when  these  newcomers  learn  the  language,  they 
inevitably  absorb,  in  greater  or  less  degree,  the  tradi- 
tions and  beliefs,  the  aspirations  and  the  modes  of 
thought,  the  ideals  and  the  attitude  toward  life,  which 
that  language  alone  enshrines. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     269 

These  immeasurable  gifts  have  a  peculiar  significance 
to  us  of  the  New  World,  but  in  addition  are  those,  no 
less  beneficent,  which  all  who  speak  English  share  in 
common.  To  possess  English  as  a  birthright  opens  to 
every  man  so  born,  without  effort  and  without  price, 
the  greatest  literature,  except  that  of  Greece,  which 
the  world  has  known.  It  makes  us  kin  to  both  the 
Teutonic  and  the  Latin  languages,  and  the  doors  to 
both  those  great  literatures  open  easily  to  any  of  us 
who  would  enter  in. 

A  few  years  ago  a  German  philologist  (German,  of 
course)  counted  the  words  in  some  of  the  principal 
modern  languages  and  found  that  English  had  260,000 
in  its  vocabulary.  Next,  longo  intervallo,  came  German, 
with  80,000  words,  then  Italian  with  75,000,  French 
with  30,000,  Turkish  with  22,500,  and  Spanish  with 
20,000.  Mere  size  of  vocabulary,  as  the  French  Figaro 
said  in  commenting  upon  the  figures,  does  not  imply 
literary  excellence,  or  the  reverse  —  literary  deficiency. 
But  the  enormous  number  of  English  words,  so  much 
greater  apparently  than  that  of  any  other  modern 
tongue,  shows  beyond  question  the  assimilative,  ex- 
pansive quality  of  the  language,  as  well  as  its  richness 
and  flexibility.  It  proves  that  the  language  has  grown 
and  spread  with  the  growth  and  spread  of  the  people 
who  speak  it,  keeping  pace  with  the  exploration  of  all 
corners  of  the  globe  and  with  the  multipHcation  of  in- 
dustries and  the  widening  of  knowledge.    In  the  number 


270     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

of  people  who  speak  it,  and  in  its  distribution  through- 
out the  world,  it  comes  to-day  nearer  to  being  a  world 
language  than  any  other  now  spoken. 
y  Such  a  language,  with  its  history  and  traditions, 
with  its  literature  and  its  unequalled  richness,  is  a 
great  heritage,  and  the  duty  devolves  upon  all  to 
whom  it  belongs  as  a  birthright  to  guard  and  cherish 
it,  to  preserve  its  purity  and  strength,  and  in  order 
that  it  may  retain  its  commanding  place  not  to  en- 
courage and  cultivate  differences,  but  strive  to  secure 
the  greatest  possible  uniformity  in  its  use  in  all  quarters 
of  the  globe. 

The  importance  of  uniformity  in  usage,  not  only  to 
the  quahty,  but  to  the  growth  and  spread  of  the  lan- 
guage, can  hardly  be  overestimated.  Uniformity  in 
pronunciation  cannot  be  hoped  for,  because  variations 
in  pronunciation  will  range  from  the  strange  dialects 
of  remote  and  isolated  communities  to  those  fine 
shades  of  difference  which  exist  even  among  the  best- 
educated  people  who  are  in  contact  with  the  world 
of  men  and  books  and  which  are  of  little  practical 
importance.  Men  may  be  capable  of  keeping  their 
minds  unchanged  when  they  change  their  sky,  but 
not  the  manner  in  which  they  sound  their  vowels 
and  consonants.  The  fact  that  a  hundred  miles 
is  enough,  sometimes,  to  cause  a  difference  in  the 
manner  in  which  people  speaking  precisely  the  same 
language  sound  the  letter  "a,''  for  instance,  is  suffi- 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     271 

cient  to  show  how  inept  it  is  to  talk  about  phonetic 

spelhng. 

But  although  uniform  pronunciation,  desirable,  no 
doubt,  but  not  essential,  may  be  unattainable,  substan- 
tial uniformity  in  meaning  and  spelling  is  not  only 
attainable,  but  practically  attained.  No  matter  where 
a  book  or  a  newspaper  may  be  written  or  printed 
eveiy  one  in  the  Enghsh-speaking  world  can  read  it. 
This  is  the  uniformity  which  should  be  sedulously 
maintained,  for  confusion  or  multiplication  of  forms, 
either  of  meaning  or  spelling,  would  be  disastrous  to 
the  language. 

Uniformity  of  meaning  can  be  trusted  in  the  long 
run  to  take  care  of  itself,  either  by  the  process  of  adopt- 
ing new  meanings  or  abandoning  old.     But  spelling 
excites  a  constant  desire  among  many  persons  to  effect 
instantaneous  reforms  and  improvements,   for  both 
reforms  and  improvements  seem  so  delightfully  obvious 
and  so  easy  to  accomplish.    No  one  will  deny  that 
there  are  many  English  words  in  which  the  spelling 
might  be  advantageously  simplified,  and  the  natural 
movement  of  the  language  has  been  in  this  direction. 
But  the  attempt  to  effect  such  changes  suddenly  and 
arbitrarily  seems  to  be  as  undesirable  as  it  is  difficult. 
I  read  not  long  since  Defoe's  Compleat  Gentleman, 
which  has  been  printed  for  the  first  time  from  the 
original  manuscript  in  the  British  Museum.    Spelling 
reformers  can  find  in  its  pages  authority  for  many 


272     THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS 

simplified  spellings  which  would  no  doubt  delight  their 
hearts.  But  we  can  also  find  on  many  pages  the  same 
word  spelled  in  different  ways,  the  multiplication  of 
silent  and  double  letters,  and  we  perceive,  in  short, 
that  confusion  reigns  supreme.  This  book  was  written 
only  a  few  years  before  Johnson  brought  out  his  dic- 
tionary and  thereby  rendered  the  inestimable  service 
of  erecting  a  standard,  thus  producing  a  uniformity  in 
spelling  which  never  existed  before.  Since  Johnson's 
time  the  whole  movement  of  the  language  has  been 
toward  simplification,  and  silent  letters  have  been  not 
only  silently  but  steadily  disappearing.  There  are 
those  who  think  that  it  is  best  to  allow  the  language 
to  work  out  its  destiny  in  its  own  way  and  in  accord- 
ance with  its  genius  and  spirit.  It  is  possible  that  if 
Mr.  Archer's  plan  of  a  meeting  of  representative 
scholars  and  writers  from  all  parts  of  the  English- 
speaking  world,  who  should  agree  on  certain  changes 
in  spelling,  were  carried  out  spelling  might  be  simpli- 
fied at  one  blow  and  at  the  same  time  uniformity  be 
preserved.  But  it  is  absolutely  certain  that  no  self- 
constituted  committee,  no  association  here  or  there,  no 
executive  order,  no  body  of  men  representing  only 
themselves  or  groups  of  individuals  in  one  or  even  two 
countries,  can  force  a  sudden  reform  in  spelHng.  Such 
attempts  only  add  confusion,  and  it  is  infinitely  better 
to  express  an  idea  by  a  clumsy  symbol  which  every- 
body uses  than  to  try  to  inject  a  far  more  accurate 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  CERTAIN  AMERICANISMS     273 

symbol  which  only  a  small  minority  will  employ.  As 
things  are,  it  is  much  better  to  permit  the  language 
to  work  out  its  own  modifications  as  it  does  its  exten- 
sions in  its  own  way.  The  cardinal  object  of  all  who 
love  the  English  language  should  be  to  maintain  its 
strength  and  purity,  and  the  greatest  enemies  to  strength 
and  purity  are  the  abuse  which  warps  and  distorts 
the  meaning  of  words  and  the  confusion  which  results 
from  efforts  to  reform  either  meanings  or  spelling  to 
suit  the  taste  and  fancy  of  individuals.  Let  us  be 
content  with  our  great  possession,  which  has  come  down 
to  us  through  the  centuries,  meeting  victoriously  eveiy 
chance  and  adventure  and  never  failing  those  who  have 
called  upon  it,  whether  for  the  simple  needs  of  daily 
life  or  to  express  in  the  noblest  verse  the  thoughts  and 
visions  of  the  greatest  poets. 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

To  one  who,  since  boyhood  and  scarlet  fever,  had 
never  known  what  it  was  to  be  kept  for  a  day  in  bed 
by  ilhiess,  the  swift  change  from  health  and  activity 
to  the  condition  of  a  surgical  case,  helpless,  inert,  im- 
prisoned, was  startling  in  the  extreme.  A  wdld  dream 
it  seemed  to  be  at  the  first  return  to  consciousness. 
The  reawakening  came  as  if  it  were  a  rebirth  which, 
like  its  original,  was  only  '^a  sleep  and  a  forgetting.'' 
Then  one  became  suddenly  aware  that  the  world  had 
shrunk  into  a  small  room  and  that  this  new  Httle  world 
was  filled  wdth  one's  own  petty  personality  and  with 
naught  else.  All  the  interests  of  yesterday,  all  the 
thoughts  of  the  waking  hours,  of  public  affairs,  of  pri- 
vate joys  and  personal  cares  —  all  alike  seemed  to 
have  vanished.  But  their  departure  caused  no  sor- 
row. The  vacant  spaces,  the  empty  air  which  they 
left  behind,  brought  only  a  drowsy  sense  of  rest  and 
quiet.  There  was  no  longing  to  fill  the  void  so  sud- 
denly created.  Even  the  mere  thought  of  attempting 
it  was  so  wearying,  so  painful  indeed,  that  it  faded 
away  with  the  visions  of  what  once  had  been,  leaving 
nothing  but  a  sensation  of  peace  and  soft  content. 

For  the  first  days,  lying  chained  to  one  position,  it 

274 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  275 

was  enough  to  gaze  through  the  window:  to  see  the 
grassy  slope  dimbing  slowly  among  the  gray  ledges 
to  the  crest  of  the  cliffs  and  then  beyond  that  crest  to 
behold  the  ocean  floor  and  the  far  horizon-line.  There 
was  a  peculiar  joy  in  watching  the  darkness  fade  as 
the  vault  of  heaven  filled  with  gradual  light  while 
over  all  stole  quietly  the  flush  of  dawn.  Then  the 
shadows  appeared  and  shortened  and  disappeared; 
came  again  as  the  sun  passed  the  zenith,  and  slowly 
lengthened  until  swallowed  up  in  the  gathering  night. 
And  against  the  darkening  sky,  where  the  gazer 
all  motionless  had  seen  the  dawn,  there  now  sprang 
out  the  flashing  light  from  the  high  tower  on  the  low 
ledge  hard  by  which  marked  the  entrance  to  the  city's 
harbor;  while  still  beyond,  far  down  on  the  horizon's 
edge,  glittered  another  great  light  which  from  its 
sunken  reef  pointed  out  for  those  who  had  gone  down 
to  the  sea  in  ships  the  way  to  safety  and  repose. 

A  few  days  passed  and  then  came  another  room, 
another  window,  and  another  view.  Here  the  ocean 
seemed  to  lie  at  one's  feet;  no  distant  horizon  Hne  but 
the  coast  on  the  other  side  of  the  broad  bay  curving 
away  in  a  line  as  beautiful  as  the  Apulian  shore  when 
we  look  at  it  from  Taormina.  The  infinite  aspect  of  the 
sea  which,  seen  from  the  first  window,  knew  no  barriers 
until  it  washed  the  shores  of  Portugal,  was  gone. 
In  its  stead,  in  the  place  of  the  brooding  peace  of  the 
unbounded  ocean  came  the  life  and  motion  of  the 


276  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

waters  chafing  against  the  land.  The  great  torches 
which  beckon  to  the  huge  ships  suddenly  coming  up 
out  of  the  ocean  wastes  no  longer  shot  sharply  through 
the  darkness  and  their  place  was  taken  by  a  quiet 
little  light,  burning  with  red  steadfastness  only  to 
guide  a  few  stray  fishermen  or  small  trading  schooners 
as  they  made  their  way  north  and  south,  clinging  to 
the  coast,  which  is  normally  their  safety  and  at  times, 
alas,  their  grave!  The  quiet  red  light  had  a  calm, 
domestic  air  which  seemed  very  soothing  and  com- 
forting after  the  piercing  flashes  of  the  stern  towers 
rising  in  lonely  abruptness  from  the  sea. 

October  of  last  year,^  if  not  a  "close  bosom  friend 
of  the  maturing  sim,^'  so  far  as  any  one  could  see,  was 
certainly  a  "season  of  mists."  For  five  days  the  New 
England  coast  was  wrapped  in  a  fog  of  imequalled 
duration  and  density.  Yet  to  one  with  naught  to  do 
but  watch,  it  was  soon  made  manifest  that  these  sea 
mists  were  not  guilty  of  the  blank  absence  of  change 
so  dreaiy  to  the  impatient  passengers  on  fog-bound 
ships.  Without  apparent  reason  the  mists  would  re- 
treat and  the  rocky  coast  emerge  as  if  suddenly  re- 
born into  the  world.  Then  the  mist  colunms  would 
come  marching  back  with  gathered  reinforcements  from 
the  ocean,  and  all  things  on  land  and  sea  would  vanish 
behind  the  soft  gray  veil.  Sometimes  they  would 
creep  in  over  the  surface  of  the  water  and  all  on  the 

U913. 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  277 

sea-level  would  disappear,  leaving  the  lighthouse  up 
aloft;  vivid  and  distinct,  looking  down  upon  the  eddy- 
ing wreaths  below;  and  then  again  they  would  drift 
back  high  up  and  the  light  above  would  be  lost  while 
all  the  edges  of  the  rocks  would  be  clear  upon  the 
water-line.  All  these  movements,  sudden,  surprisingly 
destitute  of  reason  or  apparent  cause,  were  graceful 
and  beautiful,  concealing  an  invisible  force  which  is 
so  impressive  to  the  finite  sense,  and  all  the  more  so 
here  from  the  extreme  gentleness  with  which  it  moved. 
To  fogs  succeeded  storms  and  with  the  storms  came 
a  heavy  surf.  The  slow,  gliding  movements  of  the 
mist  were  gone  and  the  whole  scene  was  pervaded  with 
a  restless  violence.  By  the  hour  together  the  onlooker 
could  watch  the  waves  climbing  the  reefs  and  cliffs 
along  the  outstretched  line  of  rock-bound  coast,  only 
to  fall  back  and  come  roaring  in  again,  masses  of  white 
and  angry  foam,  impelled  by  hidden  forces,  exuberant 
in  all  the  infinite  variety  which  can  never  grow  stale  to 
those  who  gaze  with  wonder.  Across  the  clouds  and 
rain  swept  the  great  gulls  who  come  from  Labrador  to 
pass  the  winter  in  the  milder  climate  of  Massachusetts. 
To  see  them  soaring  up  and  down,  floating  easily  upon 
the  gale,  careless  of  rain  and  wind  alike,  is  a  beautiful 
sight,  a  spectacle  of  grace  and  power  which  never 
wearies.  As  one  watches  the  wonder  grows,  and  ever 
more  insistently  the  watcher  asks  how  many  eons  of 
time  nature  consumed  in  the  evolution  of  such  per- 


278  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

feet  flying-machines.  Nearer  home  were  six  crows  who 
had  been  Hving  on  the  point  for  some  weeks.  They 
moved  about,  consulted  together,  went  from  tree  to 
ground  and  back  again,  and  presented  always  that  ex- 
hibition of  busy  idleness  which  has  such  an  enduring 
charm  to  those  whose  lot  it  is  to  labor  in  this  workaday 
world. 

But  it  was  at  night  that  the  second  window  had 
its  most  enthralling  charm.  In  the  darkness  the  broad 
waters  of  the  bay  stood  out  with  a  still  deeper  black- 
ness, cold,  unrelenting,  unwavering.  It  seemed  so  un- 
feeling, so  final,  that  one  shrank  from  it  as  if  it  sym- 
bolized the  last  great  blank  when  all  material  things 
have  perished.  Then  one  raised  his  eyes  and  far  across 
the  bay,  white  and  luminous  above  the  blackness  of 
the  sea,  shone  out  the  electric  lights  along  the  shore. 
They  seemed  very  human,  very  kind  and  friendly, 
those  lights  across  the  bay,  and  on  the  rare  nights 
when  the  sky  was  clear  it  needed  but  another  lift  of 
the  eyes  and  one  saw  the  stars  in  all  their  steady 
splendor,  while  toward  morning,  the  waning  moon 
would  cast  its  pale  light  through  the  air  and  the  dark- 
ness of  the  waters  would  soften  and  take  on  the  purple 
tone  of  Homer^s  wine-dark  sea.  Yet  the  pleasantest 
memory  of  that  scene  of  night  is,  after  all,  those  lights 
across  the  bay,  which  seemed  to  bring  hope  and  rest 
and  peace  when  the  dark  water  had  been  passed  and 
the  tired  sight  lost  all  weariness  as  it  met  the  glow  of 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  279 

the  human  lamps  and,  far  above,  the  unchanging 
ghtter  of  the  stars. 

All  these  sights  thus  seen  from  two  windows  had  been 
part  of  his  existence  from  the  day  when  the  convales- 
cent first  opened  his  eyes  upon  the  world  about  him. 
The  sky  and  sea  in  all  their  moods  had  been  the  friends 
of  a  lifetime.  Every  ledge,  every  reef,  every  pool 
teeming  with  life,  every  bend  and  curve  in  the  coast- 
line were  known  to  him  with  a  more  minute  knowledge 
than  anything  else  on  earth.  Yet  now,  as  the  mind 
began  at  intervals  to  pass  outside  the  mere  physical 
conditions  of  the  body,  it  would  rest  with  a  sensation 
of  deep  repose  upon  these  familiar  sights  and  find  in 
them  beauties  and  reflections,  not  without  depth  of 
meaning,  never  noted  in  all  the  years  which  had  gone 
before.  They  all  seemed  full  of  voices  and  the  voices 
were  saying:  "Look  at  us;  you  thought  you  knew  us 
well,  but  we  are  filled  with  undiscovered  beauties  and 
we  have  many  secrets  yet  untold."  At  the  same  time 
the  mind,  as  it  reawakened,  recoiled  as  at  the  outset 
from  all  which  had  occupied  it  in  the  daily  round  of 
life  now  so  remote.  The  thoughts  would  not  take 
their  wonted  course.  The  effort  to  make  them  do  so 
was  not  only  forbidden  but  was  too  laborious  to  be 
attempted.  So  the  thoughts  thus  set  free  turned  first 
without  strain,  entirely  of  themselves,  quite  restfully 
to  the  familiar  sights  of  ocean  and  land  and  sky  which 
came  unaided  to  the  field  of  vision.    It  seemed  like  a 


280  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

voyage  of  discovery  with  ever  new  delights,  as  the  eye 
unmoving  read  the  twice-told  tale.  It  was  beyond 
measure  interesting  to  cease  from  all  effort  to  apply 
one^s  mind  and  to  allow  the  vagrant  thoughts  to  stray 
whithersoever  they  would  in  glorious  irresponsibility. 

Very  soon  indeed  they  began  to  extend  their  jour- 
neys and  to  travel  from  the  visible  world  into  the  world 
of  bookS;  not  that  book  world  which  is  filled  with 
"unconcerning  facts"  and  crowded  with  the  gathered 
knowledge  of  the  centuries,  but  that  far  fairer  world 
which  is  the  creation  of  imagination.  The  convales- 
cent restored  to  health  and  strength  remembers  well 
the  first  thought,  which  was  not  a  part  of  what  he 
saw,  and  which  floated  into  his  head  on  one  of  the  first 
mornings  as  he  watched  the  dawn.  It  brought  with  it 
the  memory  of  certain  lines  in  Matthew  Arnold's  well- 
known  poem  The  Wish: 

"  Bathed  in  the  sacred  dews  of  morn 
The  wide  aerial  landscape  spread  — 
The  world  which  was  ere  I  was  bom, 
The  world  which  lasts  when  I  am  dead; 

"  Which  never  was  the  friend  of  one, 
Nor  promised  love  it  could  not  give, 
But  lit  for  all  its  generous  sun, 
And  lived  itself,  and  made  us  live." 

The  lines  are  as  familiar  as  they  are  beautiful. 
They  come  from  a  melancholy  poem,  but  at  that  mo- 
ment there  seemed  in  them  no  shade  of  sadness,  only 
sympathetic  feeling,  a  consoling  and  tender  loveliness. 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  281 

It  SO  happened  that  during  the  summer  just  past  the 
convalescent  had  read  the  Odyssey.  Now  his  mind 
went  back  to  it  and  all  the  stories  came  drifting  by, 
each  one  bringing  a  picture  which  seemed  to  frame 
itself  in  the  window  and  find  its  scene  upon  the  cliffs 
with  their  ocean  background.  Chief  among  them,  most 
constantly  visitant,  was  the  return  of  Odysseus  in  dis- 
guise and  the  slaying  of  the  suitors  in  the  hall,  perhaps 
the  greatest  story,  merely  as  a  story,  ever  written. 
In  some  unexplained  way  the  incident  of  "Argos" 
seemed  to  stand  out  especially  among  all  the  othei^ 
and  the  convalescent  found  himself  with  his  well-nigh 
all-forgotten  Greek  trying  feebly  and  yet  without  a 
sense  of  effort  to  put  the  lines  together.  They  are  few 
indeed:  no  great  feat  to  say  them  over  if  one  can  but 
recall  them,  which  the  searcher  could  not  do  except  in 
fragments. 

^  "Fiv6a  KV(ov  KeW  "Apyo^  eViVXeto?  KwopataTecav, 
A^  Tore  7'j  0)9  ivorjaev  'OBvaaea  iy<yv<;  iovra^ 
Ovprj  fxeu  p  6  7*  €<TT)V€  KoX  ovara  Kci^^aXev  d/jL<j)(i}^ 
"Aaaoi/  B*  ovk4t  erreiTa  Bvp^aaTo  olo  avaKTO'i 

and  then: 

^"Apyov  B*  av  Kara  p.oip'  ekafiev  fxe\ai>o<;  BavdroLo. 

*  There  lay  the  Dog  Argos,  full  of  vermin.  Yet  even  now  when  he 
was  aware  of  Ulysses  standing  by,  he  wagged  his  tail  and  dropped  both 
his  ears,  but  nearer  to  his  master  he  had  not  now  strength  to  draw. 

*  But  upon  Argos  came  the  fate  of  black  death. 


282  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

That  is  all.  The  recognition  of  the  master  when  all 
others  fail  and  then  tlie  death  of  the  old  dog.  There 
is  deep  pathos  in  it,  in  the  contrast  between  the  loving 
instinct  of  the  animal  and  the  human  forgetfulness  of 
the  absent.  ^'I  am  as  true  as  truth^s  simplicity  and 
simpler  than  the  infancy  of  truth."  We  must  turn  to 
another  great  genius  to  find  the  phrase  which  exactly 
describes  the  imagination  from  which  came  forth  the 
tales  of  the  Odyssey. 

It  so  happened  that  a  few  weeks  later  the  reviving 
convalescent  read  a  book  which  contained  a  burlesque 
of  Homer.  The  last  sentence  of  this  bit  of  humor  may 
also  have  been  intended  to  be  comic  or  perhaps  was 
written  in  the  profoundest  irony,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
it  was  seriously  meant.  The  author  wished  universities 
to  understand  what  the  classics  really  were:  "only 
primitive  literature;  in  the  same  class  as  primitive 
machinery  and  primitive  music  and  primitive  medi- 
cine." The  convalescent  wondered  as  he  read  this 
observation  what  the  author  meant  by  "primitive," 
for  Homer^s  men  were  much  farther  removed  from 
primitive  man  in  the  scientific  sense  than  we  are  from 
the  men  of  the  Ihad.  The  statement,  however,  al- 
though occurring  at  the  end  of  a  burlesque  of  Homer, 
referred  to  the  classics  generally.  So  the  convalescent 
diverted  himself  by  wondering  whether  the  writer  re- 
garded the  authors  of  The  Republic,  The  Politics,  and 
the  De  Natura  Rerum  as  "primitive  men."    The  dis- 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  283 

tinction  between  intellectual  power  and  mere  knowl- 
edge of  accumulated  facts  seemed  in  some  way  to 
have  been  lost  sight  of  and  the  convalescent  tried  to 
think  of  the  men  of  our  own  radiant  civilization  who  in 
mere  naked  power  of  thought  and  intellect  surpassed 
Plato  and  Aristotle  and  Lucretius.  Their  names  did 
not  at  the  moment  occur  to  him,  probably  on  account 
of  his  weakened  condition.  Most  of  all,  the  convales- 
cent marvelled  at  the  queer  theoiy  that  ''primitive" 
men  should  not  be  able  to  produce  works  of  the  imagina- 
tion because  they  were  destitute  of  modern  machinery. 
He  had  always  thought  that  among  so-called  primitive 
people,  in  the  dawn  of  civilization,  the  imagination 
was  unusually  strong,  just  as  it  is  in  a  child  compared 
with  the  grown  man.  This  he  had  believed  to  be  a 
truism  and  indeed  he  well  knew  that  it  was  one  of  the 
"commonplaces,  glorified"  by  Macaulay,  to  borrow 
Carlyle's  phrase.  Did  not  a  genius  greater  even  than 
Homer,  he  said  to  himself,  touch  the  last  scene  of  a 
royal  tragedy  with  the  bitter  memory  of  a  loved  and 
faithless  horse?  Who  can  forget  the  effect  produced 
by  the  thought  of  Roan  Barbary  upon  the  fallen  and 
imprisoned  king  with  sudden  death  lurking  behind 
the  arras  ?  The  conversation  with  the  groom  is  simple, 
commonplace  almost,  in  expression,  and  yet  it  con- 
veys a  sense  of  pathos  and  misery  so  poignant  that  it 
pierces  the  heart.  Then,  as  the  convalescent  reflected 
still  further  upon  the  dog  Ai'gos,  there  came  to  him  the 


284  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

memoiy  of  a  great  actor  moving  crowded  audiences  to 
smiles  and  tears  by  saying  in  a  quiet  voice:  "If  my  dog 
Schneider  were  here  he  would  know  me/'  just  as  the 
rhapsodists  moved  the  Greeks  by  repeating  in  noble 
verse  the  twice-told  tale  of  Odysseus  and  his  old  hound. 
It  seemed  as  if  we,  too,  must  be  "primitive,"  or  else 
that  the  poet  who  sang  of  Achilles's  wrath  touched  a 
chord  which  always  vibrates  and  had  in  all  he  wrote 
the  quality  of  the  eternal  so  long  as  human  nature 
exists.  Perhaps,  after  all,  he  was  neither  "primitive" 
nor  modern,  but  simply  a  great  genius. 

From  Homer  the  convalescent's  mind  wandered 
happily  and  of  its  own  accord  to  the  poetry  of  his  own 
language.  He  found  himself  trying  to  repeat  verses 
which  without  any  will  of  his  own  came  fluttering  into 
his  mind.  He  was  struck  by  the  fact  that  those  which 
came  first  were  not  from  the  poets  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  among  whom  are  numbered  some  of  the  best- 
loved  and  most  familiar,  but  were  from  the  Elizabeth- 
ans, from  the  seventeenth-century  poets,  from  the 
song-writers  of  the  great  period  of  English  song,  from 
the 

"  bards  sublime, 
Whose  distant  footsteps  echo 
Through  the  corridors  of  Time." 

One  of  the  very  first,  why  he  could  not  tell,  was 
Ben  Jonson's  very  familiar  stanza: 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  285 

"  It  is  not  growing  like  a  tree 
In  bulk,  doth  make  man  better  be; 

Or  standing  long  an  oak,  three  hundred  year, 

To  fall  a  log  at  last,  dry,  bald,  and  sere: 
A  lily  of  a  day 
Is  fairer  far  in  May, 
Although  it  fall  and  die  that  night  — 
It  was  the  plant  and  flower  of  Light. 

In  small  proportions  we  just  beauties  see; 

And  in  short  measures  life  may  perfect  be." 

It  is  but  one  stanza  in  a  poem  of  many  stanzas  not 
otherwise  memorable.  But  as  the  convalescent  re- 
peated to  himself  the  well-known  lines,  known  by  heart 
for  so  many  years,  suddenly  he  seemed  to  see  as  he 
had  seen  in  the  familiar  landscape  spread  before  his 
eyes  a  new  beauty  and  deeper  meaning  which  he  had 
never  noticed  before.  In  the  lines  he  discovered,  as 
he  thought,  a  brief  epitome  of  the  Elizabethan  genius. 
In  the  first  and  last  verses  were  the  aphorisms  full  of 
wisdom  and  reflection,  condensed,  concise,  in  which 
the  Elizabethans  so  dehghted,  and  then  in  the  middle 
flashed  out  the  tender  and  exquisite  image  of  the  Uly, 
all  compact  of  imaginative  beauty.  With  unerring 
voice  the  poet  touches  that  high  note  which  they  all 
in  that  day  seemed  able  to  do  whenever  they  really 
tried,  even  in  the  midst  of  their  extravagances  and  con- 
ceits and  all  the  other  faults  and  failings  which  were  the 
ephemeral  children  of  the  fashion  of  the  day.  Scores 
of  critics  and  lovers  of  poetry  probably  had  observed 


286  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

all  this  before  in  these  same  verses,  but  it  came  to  the 
convalescent  as  a  discovery  and  he  felt  as  much  hap- 
piness as  the  "watcher  of  the  skies" 

"When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken." 

This  stanza  of  Ben  Jonson  happened  to  stray  into  his 

mind  first,  why  he  could  not  guess,  but  his  thoughts 

ranging  at  will  through  the  wide  spaces  of  memory 

turned  naturally  and  chiefly  to  Milton  and  Shakespeare, 

above    all   to   the   latter.     Passages   from  Paradise 

Lost,    from    Lycidas,    L' Allegro,    II    Penseroso,    the 

Samson     Agonistes,     and    the    Comus,     and     lines 

from   the    sonnets,   came    unbidden  in   the   silences 

of  such  a  time.    They  were  only  fragments,  but  there 

was  an  endless  pleasure  in  trying  to  recite  them,  to 

see  how  far  the  convalescent  could  go,  and  there  was 

something  infinitely  soothing  and  satisfying  in  their 

noble  beauty  and  in  the  mere  perfection  of  the  words 

and  rhythm,  for  Milton  is  the  greatest  master  of 

metrics  in  English  and  makes  an  appeal,  possible  only 

to  the 

"  Chief  of  organic  numbers  I 
Old  scholar  of  the  spheres  ! 
Thy  music  never  slumbers. 
But  rolls  about  our  ears 
Forever  and  forever !" 

Yet  it  was  to  Shakespeare,  best  known  and  best 
beloved,  that  the  convalescent's  mind  turned  most 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  287 

constantly.  His  words  recurred  unceasingly  as  the 
thoughts,  effortless  and  unfettered,  flitted  here  and 
there.  Passages  from  the  plays,  entire  sonnets,  re- 
peated themselves  to  the  convalescent,  some  over  and 
over  again,  always  with  a  sense  of  peace  and  deep  con- 
tent. Famihar  again  as  the  sight  of  sea  and  rock  and 
sky  outside  the  window,  they  seemed  now  to  be  filled 
with  beauties  never  seen  and  a  music  never  heard  be- 
fore. Kind  hands  had  placed  beside  the  bed  the 
Golden  Treasury  and  the  Oxford  Book  of  English 
Verse,  and  one  day  not  long  after  the  swift  reduction 
to  immobility  had  befallen  the  convalescent  he  stretched 
out  his  hand,  took  up  the  Golden  Treasury,  opened  it 
at  random,  and  read  one  Shakespeare  sonnet.  The 
physical  act  of  reading  those  fourteen  lines  seemed  a 
most  remarkable  and  fatiguing  feat  at  the  moment, 
but  once  accomplished  it  filled  some  hours  with  pleasure 
as  the  convalescent  gazed  through  yet  another  window 
at  a  sunset  fire  kindling  the  clouds,  and  quietly  re- 
flected on  what  he  had  just  read.  The  ability  to  read, 
after  this  first  memorable  experiment,  came  back  more 
rapidly  than  any  other,  and  in  a  little  while  it  was 
possible  to  read  many  lines  instead  of  only  fourteen. 

In  the  Oxford  Book  of  Verse  Shakespeare's  songs 
are  printed  together.  The  convalescent  knew  them 
all  very  intimately,  but  it  so  happened  that  he  had 
never  read  them  one  after  another  in  unbroken  suc- 
cession, and  the  effect  of  doing  so  was  a  fresh  impres- 


288  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

sion  of  the  limitless  quality  of  Shakespeare's  genius. 
To  write  a  song  of  the  most  perfect  beauty  when  he 
happened  to  think  that  it  would  be  well  at  that  point 
to  give  ^'Jack"  Wilson  a  chance  to  sing  something 
seems  to  have  been  as  easy  to  him  as  it  is  to  the  ''lark 
to  trill  all  day."  So  easy  to  him  and  yet  how  rare 
and  marvellous  the  art !  Swinburne  says  in  his  drastic 
way  that  English  song-writing  in  the  fine  and  true 
sense  ended  with  Herrick.  It  sounds  like  an  extreme 
statement  and  yet  it  is  difiicult  to  controvert  it. 
Poems,  lyrics  of  highest  beauty  and  splendor,  touching 
every  note  in  the  gamut  of  emotions,  we  have  had  since 
then  and  in  a  rich  abundance.  But  the  lyrics  or  the 
poems  of  the  first  rank,  which  are  also  songs  which 
sing  themselves  and  lose  no  jot  of  their  perfection,  are 
sufficiently  uncommon  since  the  early  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, when  it  seemed  as  if  every  poet  and  dramatist 
had  the  power,  either  at  some  great  moment,  or  like 
the  master  of  them  all  at  any  moment,  to  sing  when 
the  fancy  caught  him.  As  the  convalescent  read  and 
read  again  the  Shakespearian  songs  one  after  another 
he  found  himself  wondering  how  any  being  of  ordinary 
intelligence  could  think  that  the  same  hand  wrote, 

"The  World^s  a  bubble,  and  the  life  of  Man 
Less  than  a  span"; 

and  then, 

"  Hark !  hark !  the  lark  at  heaven's  gate  sings." 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  289 

Or  if  there  be  a  faint  doubt  about  The  World,  de- 
scribed as  "Lord  Verulam's  elegant  irapwhia  of  a  Greek 
epigram/'  is  it  conceivable  that  the  man  who  wrote 

"  That  time  of  year  thou  mayst  in  me  behold 
When  yellow  leaves,  or  none,  or  few,  do  hang 
Upon  those  boughs  which  shake  against  the  cold, 
Bare  ruined  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang"; 

who  gave  us  one  of  Matthew  Arnold's  great  touch- 
stones of  poetiy, 

"Absent  thee  from  felicity  awhile," 

could  also  have  been  guilty  of  such  lines  as: 

"O  sing  a  new  song  to  our  God  above; 
Avoid  profane  ones,  'tis  for  holy  quire"; 

which  are  far  below  Addison's 

"  Spacious  firmament  on  high," 

and  by  no  means  up  to  the  level  of  Doctor  Watts? 

Internal  evidence  is  notoriously  untrustw^orthy;  yet 
it  is  beyond  belief  that  the  same  man  could  have  written 
all  these  three  poems  or  sets  of  verses.  One  can  only 
repeat  in  despair  the  saying  of  Henry  Labouchere:  ''I 
am  perfectly  willing  to  admit  that  Bacon  wrote  Shake- 
speare's plays  if  they  will  only  tell  me  who  WTote  the 
works  of  Bacon." 

But  as  the  reader  closed  the  book  he  reflected  that 


290  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

after  all  it  was  less  surprising  that  Shakespeare  should 
have  wiitten  all  these  songs,  scattered  with  prodigal 
hand  here  and  there  throughout  the  plays,  than  the 
fact  that  all  the  dramatists  of  that  day  could  each  and 
all  apparently  write  a  quite  perfect  song  of  great  lyrical 
beauty  at  least  once  if  they  set  themselves  to  do  it. 
The  convalescent  ran  over  to  himself  the  few  he  could 
easily  call  to  mind.  There  was  Webster,  of  whom 
nothing  is  known,  but  who  wrote  two  powerful  trage- 
dies which  are  still  read  and  in  which  are  touches 
worthy  of  the  master.  His  dark  and  sinister  genius, 
as  we  see  it  displayed  in  The  Duchess  of  Malfi  and 
Vittoria  Corombona,  seems  as  unfitted  as  possible 
for  lyric  poetry,  and  yet  when  the  mood  was  on  him 
he  wrote  the  famous  song,  sad  as  one  might  expect  from 
him,  but  full  of  tender  feeling,  which  is  called  a  "land 
dirge"  and  which  begins: 

"  Call  for  the  robin-redbreast  and  the  wren." 

Then  the  convalescent  thought  of  Heywood,  a  second- 
rate  man,  his  plays  read  only  by  students  of  the 
Elizabethan  literature,  and  yet  Heywood  could  write: 

"  Pack,  clouds,  away,  and  welcome  day, 
With  night  we  banish  sorrow"; 

a  song  worthy  of  a  place  in  the  Shakespearian  group. 
The  next  that  came  to  mind  was  Shirley,  latest  of  the 
Elizabethan  and  Jacobean  dramatists.    His  plays  are 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  291 

not  now  read  at  all;  it  may  be  doubted  if  even  the 
name  of  any  one  of  them  is  remembered  except  by 
students  of  literature.  Yet  every  one  knows  the  lines, 
which  are  a  familiar  quotation, 

"  Only  the  actions  of  the  just 
Smell  sweet,  and  blossom  in  their  dust"; 

and  these  are  by  no  means  the  best  lines  in  a  noble 
poem.  In  the  quiet  room  the  convalescent  recalled 
gradually  the  whole  of  the  lyric.  Take  as  an  exam- 
ple of  its  quality  the  opening  Unes  of  the  last  stanza: 

"The  garlands  wither  on  your  brow; 
Then  boast  no  more  your  mighty  deeds; 
Upon  Death's  purple  altar  now 
See  where  the  victor- victim  bleeds": 

There  is  the  splendor  of  the  great  epoch  in  these 
lines  and  here  we  find  it  in  this  weak  and  forgotten 
playwright,  the  last  of  the  great  succession.  Then, 
well  beyond  the  end  of  the  mighty  line,  memory  de- 
clared that  we  could  find  an  example  of  the  great  tra- 
dition stiU  lingering  in  a  man  whose  name  is  well 
known  on  account  of  a  dim  connection  wth  Shake- 
speare, whose  plays  are  aU  unread,  who  flourished  in 
the  years  of  decadence.  Sir  Wilham  Davenant,  and 
yet  even  then  he  could  write  a  song  worthy  of  the 
"spacious  days": 


292  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

"  The  lark  now  leaves  his  wat'ry  nest, 
And  climbing  shakes  his  dewy  wings. 
He  takes  this  window  for  the  East, 
And  to  implore  your  light  he  sings  — 
Awake,  awake !  the  Morn  will  never  rise 
Till  she  can  dress  her  beauty  at  your  eyes." 

How  the  lines  sing  themselves!  There  rings  in  them 
the  echo  of  the  glorious  days,  of  the  days  when  the 
audiences  at  the  "Theatre"  or  the  ''Globe''  heard  the 
boy  sing  to  Mariana  in  the  moated  grange: 

"  Take,  O  take  those  lips  away. 
That  so  sweetly  were  forsworn; 
And  those  eyes,  the  break  of  day, 
Lights  that  do  mislead  the  morn ! 
But  my  kisses  bring  again. 
Bring  again; 
Seals  of  love,  but  seal'd  in  vain, 
Seal'din  vain!"i 

The  convalescent,  of  course,  could  not  solve  the  prob- 
lem. Yet  it  was  very  pleasant  to  lie  in  the  stillness 
and  watch  the  gray  mists,  and  wonder  how  these 
poets  and  dramatists  managed  to  write  such  songs 
in  those  days  long  past,  and  why  the  art  seemed  to 
have  been  lost,  and  get  no  answer  to  the  questioning 
but  the  sound  of  the  musical  lines  softly  chiming  as 
they  ran  along  the  chords  of  memory. 

1  This  song,  as  is  well  known,  occurs  also  in  Fletcher's  Bloody  Brother, 
with  a  second  and  inferior  stanza.  I  think  every  one  must  agree  with 
Mr.  Dyce  that  it  is  the  work  of  Shakespeare,  although  the  second  stanza 
may  well  have  been  added  by  Fletcher. 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  293 

From  the  early  poets  one  went  easily  on,  when  once 
started,  to  the  much-loved  poets  of  later  days,  begm- 
ning  with  the  immortal  group  at  the  opemng  of  the 
nineteenth  century.     The  songs  of  Shakespeare  led 
naturally  to  the  plays,  not  at  first  to  the  great  tragedies 
but  to  the  comedies,  where  one  is  borne  away  mto 
another  world  which  never  existed  anywhere,  and  yet 
exists  always  and  everywhere,  a  world  filled  with 
romance,  with  light  and  life  and  humor,  broken  here 
and  there  by  the  deep  notes  of  tragedy,  full  of  beauti- 
ful poetry  and  peopled  with  characters  which  can 
never  grow  old  because  they  are  as  eternal  as  humanity 
with  no  touch  of  the  fleeting  fashion  of  a  day  about 
them      The  convalescent  had  loved  them  long  and 
truly,  but  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  never  known 
them  so  well  before,  never  reaUzed  so  fully  what  de- 
lightful companions  they  were,  so  much  more  real 
than  any  historical  figures  of  men  and  women  who 
had  actually  lived  and  wrought  out  their  lives  upon 
the  earth  to  which  long  since  they  had  returned. 

The  physical  ability  to  read  indefinitely,  by  the 
hour  together,  came  back  rapidly,  and  with  it  the  power 
of  reading  new  books  appeared.  They  could  not  take 
the  place  of  those  which  had  come  first,  of  the  poetry 
and  imaginings  among  which  memory  and  thought  had 
so  happily  roamed  and  wandered.  But  these  new  books 
began  to  share  the  hours  with  the  old.  There  was  no 
poetry  among  them.    The  convalescent  had  expected 


294  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

no  novels,  for,  although  the  new  novels  are  countless, 
they  suggest  generally  only  Rogers's  rule,  "When  I 
hear  of  a  new  book  I  take  down  an  old  one/'  Of  course 
the  endless  swarms  which,  like  flights  of  brown-tailed 
moths  upon  a  wall,  flutter  down  in  their  myriads  upon 
the  book-stalls  clad  in  gay  paper  covers,  the  chief  in- 
citement to  their  sale,  were  out  of  the  question.  Even 
in  robust  strength  the  mind  turns  from  them  as  it  does 
instinctively  from  those  of  the  "hundred  thousand 
copies  sold''  which  are  usually  as  quickly  and  irre- 
trievably forgotten  within  the  next  year  as  Pomfret's 
Choice,  which  sold  its  innumerable  editions  in  the 
eighteenth  century.  Still  more  emphatically  did  the 
mind,  sensitive  and  longmg  for  a  happy  content,  turn 
from  the  morbid,  the  sordid,  and  above  all  from  the 
solemnly  moral  novels  with  a  purpose  to  which  just 
now  a  passing  notoriety  is  so  readily  accorded.  Never- 
theless, from  this  unpromising  field,  unpromising  per- 
haps owing  to  the  reader's  distaste  for  it,  there  came 
quite  unexpectedly  some  stories  by  one  author  which 
not  only  amused  but  which  brought  with  them  the 
sense  of  new  characters,  created  characters,  with  whom 
it  was  a  pleasure  to  live  for  the  brief  hour  while  one 
read  their  adventures. 

When  Biron  in  the  midst  of  the  pleasant  fooling 
and  jesting  of  Love's  Labour's  Lost  says, 

"  To  move  wild  laughter  in  the  throat  of  death  ? 
It  cannot  be;  it  is  impossible: 
Mirth  cannot  move  a  soul  in  agony," 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  295 

we  suddenly  hear  the  deep  tragic  note  which  was  one 
day  to  become  famihar  to  the  world  in  Lear  and 
Othello.  But  the  task  imposed  by  Rosalind  does  not 
go  quite  so  far  as  Biron's  interpretation  would  make  it. 
She  tells  him  that  it  must  be  his  part 

"  To  enforce  the  pained  impotent  to  smile." 

It  is  a  difficult  feat  but  it  is  not  impossible,  and  the 
words  of  this  the  earliest,  probably,  of  Shakespeare's 
charming  women  came  freshly  to  his  mind  when  the 
convalescent  found  himself  laughing  out  loud  as  he 
read,  quite  alone,  "George  Ekmingham's "  story  of 
Spanish  Gold.  Merely  as  a  story  it  has  the  romantic 
charm.  The  search  for  buried  treasure  always  has  an 
unfailing  fascination  and  the  scene  of  the  book  is  laid 
most  fittingly  in  a  remote,  unfrequented  island  among 
a  people  isolated  from  the  world,  not  yet  drilled  into 
imiformity  by  civilization,  and  at  once  picturesque, 
humorous,  and  pathetic.  Upon  this  stage  the  char- 
acters appear:  all  are  real  people;  all  in  their  degree 
entertaining  and  interesting.  But  there  is  one,  who 
stands  out  as  the  hero,  who  is  a  genuine  creation,  so 
natural,  so  dehghtful,  that  we  welcome  him  to  that 
goodly  company  of  friends  whom  we  owe  to  human 
imagination,  from  whom  we  cannot  be  parted,  and 
who  are  more  really  living  than  those  who  have  actu- 
ally walked  the  patient  earth.  John  Joseph  Meldon 
is  a  being  very  much  alive.     To  one  very  grateful 


296  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT 

reader  under  adverse  circumstances  he  came  as  a  jo}^, 
bringing  laughter  with  him  and  leaving  a  strong  feel- 
ing of  personal  affection  behind  him.  He  is  again 
the  hero  in  The  Major's  Niece,  where  he  has  all  the 
fascination  which  he  possesses  in  Spanish  Gold,  al- 
though the  former  story  has  not  the  romantic  attrac- 
tion of  the  adventures  in  search  of  treasure  to  be  found 
in  the  tale  born  of  the  Armada  tradition.  Doctor 
0' Grady  in  General  John  Regan  and  Doctor  AVhitty 
in  the  book  that  bears  his  name  are  variants  of  the 
Meldon  type,  but  neither  is  quite  equal  to  the  original, 
although  both  are  delightful  persons.  In  the  Red 
Hand  of  Ulster,  beneath  the  easy  humor  and  the 
kindly  satire,  runs  a  deeper  purpose.  In  the  picture 
of  the  resolved  Ulstermen  with  their  great  fighting 
traditions,  of  their  inability  to  resist  the  forces  of  the 
empire  if  really  employed  against  them,  and  of  the 
vacillations  of  the  ministry  and  their  unwillingness  so 
to  employ  their  equally  reluctant  army  and  navy,  the 
truth  of  the  Ulster  situation  seems  to  be  very  sharply 
depicted.  But  the  predominant  feeling  in  the  mind  of 
one  solitary  reader  was  that  of  gratitude  to  Canon 
Hannay  for  bestowing  upon  him  the  acquaintance,  the 
friendship,  and  the  conversation  of  J.  J.  Meldon. 

In  one  respect  it  is  sad  to  confess  this  attractive 
person  proved  a  traitor,  for  the  tales  of  his  exploits 
opened  the  door  to  other  new  books  which  were  wel- 
comed by  the  regained  power  to  read  without  limit, 


DIVERSIONS  OF  A  CONVALESCENT  297 

and  the  stories  of  real  men  who  had  Hved  and  toiled 
and  vanished  came  in  to  share  the  hours  which  the 
poets  and  the  dramatists  had  for  many  days  monopo- 
lized. Instead  of  playing  unfettered  in  the  fields  of 
memoiy  and  imagination,  the  thoughts  came  back  to 
the  world  of  facts  and  knowledge.  The  dream  light 
in  which  the  convalescent  had  been  living  so  con- 
tentedly gave  way  to  the  daylight.  The  cares  which 
infest  the  day  and  the  habitual  interests  and  pursuits 
began  to  show  themselves  and  with  insistent  voices 
demanded  a  surcease  of  the  neglect  from  which  they 
had  suffered  and  a  renewal  of  the  attention  which  they 
were  wont  to  command.  They  would  not  be  denied, 
these  old  occupations  and  duties,  and,  although  there 
were  still  many  tracts  of  time  which  went  to  books, 
new  and  old,  to  meditation  on  things  which  were  of 
no  practical  use,  and  therefore  peculiarly  delightful, 
they  asserted  their  mastery  more  and  more  until  at 
last  it  was  complete.  After  this  there  were  no  more 
roamings  without  plan  or  puipose  in  pleasant  realms 
of  memory  and  fancy,  and  the  diversions  of  the  con- 
valescent which  had  made  him  happy  during  so  many 
motionless  hours  came  to  an  end. 


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